You Make Me Wanna Die
by LyingNaked
Summary: The very first Hunger Games is about to begin and, despite the odds, two best-friends from District 12 are selected to compete... Cue an odd mix of tributes who form an alliance and a strange girl from the Capitol and it's bound to become a wild, crazy mess that has the potential to do more harm than good. Especially when only one can survive. (Adopted from Hammsters.)
1. Author's Note

**You Make Me Wanna Die**

**Author's Note:** Firstly, I would like to apologise to those who have read my first attempt at Hammsters' incredible Hunger Games fanfiction – a completely original piece featuring completely original characters – for firstly, not finishing it, and secondly, not doing it justice. Secondly, I would like to apologise to Hammsters' for never finish my rewrite of her fabulous story. I should never have stopped working on this as it was not really mine to give up on.

In an attempt to make amends, I have resumed writing this (_which is actually completed and simply pending updating_). You won't see many author's notes from me as I find them tedious and boring, diverting attention from what is really important and what we are all really here for – to read a fanfiction (_in this case, an adopted Hunger Games fanfic_). The only time I will put an author's note up is when I feel it is absolutely needed.

Now, what will appear at the end of every chapter (_once the Games start, that this_) is a list of the remaining tributes. I saw it done on **Ms Pettyfer**'s 'The Black Games' (_which is exceptional, I should say, and an amazing Avatar/Hunger Games crossover with a mild Zutara theme, but I am extremely disappointed that the third instalment is yet to be posted_). If you're into Avatar, I'd really recommend it. It's excellently written and captivating. It kept me enthralled for days on end, and the sequel _'_The Rise of One' is just as good.

I think that's enough promotional material from me…

Now, before I leave you, I have to put in a few disclaimers. This list will probably appear again when the entire story is up. But it's nothing more than a completely updated list of disclaimers in case I never get around to fixing this first one.

**Disclaimers;** I do not own The Hunger Games, that world belongs to Suzanne Collins. I do not own MaddiGrace Moore or Sam Holloway, both of these characters (_and a few others who won't be revealed until later_) belong to Hammsters. I do not own the title of this fanfic, it is taken from the lyrics of a song. I do not own the lyrics/quotes used in this fanfiction, they belong solely to the artist/band/person named beneath them.

I do own, however, any characters that haven't been stated otherwise. I also own whatever typos/spelling mistakes/grammatical errors/other errors that you find throughout this story as I haven't a beta, and although I do my best to edit, sometimes you can read something a thousand times and still not pick up on your errors. I can also assure you that the writing is all me and I can happily say I'm proud of my attempts.

Well, thank you for reading this ramble (_not that I blame you if you skipped it entirely_), and I apologise for taking up so much of your time. Without further ado, let me leave you with a Hunger Games Original Character(s) orientated fanfic!

- The Ink Slinger. xox


	2. The Prologue

_The Prologue_

_' "What's gonna kill you is the second part…_

_And the third is when your world splits down the middle…" '_

The Script – _Six Degrees of Seperation_.

Crimson life-fluid stains everything it touches, turning the world around me into nothing but varying shades of thick, sticky red. A metallic smells hugs the air as I move slowly forward, searching for something among the scattered and broken bodies at my feet. Once or twice my mind helpfully thrusts a name in my direction as I catch the remains of a face, recognition filling me to the point of bursting as my heart hammers in my chest and my stomach clenches around the icicle blade that seems to have inserted itself deep inside me.

The lingering shadows of screams still stalk me, hanging heavy around my shoulders. Wisps of those screams poke their ghastly fingers at my mind as I move amongst the fallen bodies. My feet struggle to find a safe place to land as I walk amongst them, and more often than not I'm forced to step on a hand or foot, a leg or arm, part of someone's torso. Every time I do, my stomach threatens to make a guest appearance as the guilt I feel becomes so strong it almost consumes me whole.

I don't know how, but soon I stand at the very edge of the battlefield. I try to force myself to keep going, to stumble to the large willow tree with its sweeping branches and protective fall of long, thin leaves. I take one step toward it before I fall, my arms flying out to catch me. I land on my knees, on my hands, and my mind helpfully informs me of the burning pain I feel in them. But this is the last thing on my mind as I catch a glimpse through my limbs of what lays behind me.

The golden horn towers above the red land, untouched by the gore that lies around it. It glows beneath the red sun, sending out impressive golden rays that does nothing more than intensify the blood around it. It is the only thing left in this entire area that hasn't been soaked thoroughly with the blood of the fallen children. Because that's all they are, that's all _we_ are. _Children_.

I force myself to my feet and turn. The golden Cornucopia seems to be mocking me as it sits there, untouched, unblemished. I swallow harshly as I lift a hand to shield my eyes. I spot the large hooked blade in my hand, my eyes widen as I stare at it. It's wrapped in a thick coating of damp, sticky brown-red and I let it fall from my hand as horror fills me.

Laughter explodes inside my mind and I turn, racing toward the protective willow. I fall to me knees and climb beneath it, my eyes taking their merry time to adjust to the darkness beneath the tree's embrace. I hold my breath and curl up against the base of the tree, my breath coming in strangled, choking sobs.

"Sammy…?"

The voice is soft and fragile and my mind reminds me of what I was looking for. I lift my eyes slowly, searching for the source of the voice. I find her with my eyes and I almost scream. Blood stains her chest as she lays there, an arm extended to me. Her eyes are fearful, her black hair plastered to her pale cheeks as she watches, waiting.

"Maddi… MaddiGrace…" I choke out, forcing myself to move. I watch her flinch as I take her hand and hold it tight, my fingers entwining with hers. I pull her into my lap, clinging to her like she's the only thing left keeping me alive.

"I want to go home." She sobs, a sound so broken it catches and tugs at my heart strings. I grip her tightly, squeezing her, listening to the shaky beating of her heart. "I just want to go home."

"You are." I snarl through my teeth. "You're gonna be just fine, MG, you're gonna go home."

I pick her up in my arms and move as carefully as I can from the willow tree's soothing embrace. I set her down just outside the tree, on the other side of it, away from all of the broken bodies and gore left behind by the battle I can't quite remember. I drop to my knees beside her, willing myself to die right now, to force them to take her away and return her home.

"Sammy?" She's like a child, her words so fragile as she looks up at me with wide, watery eyes. I take her hand and squeeze it, my eyes dancing along the length of her. I spot a blade jutting out from the ankle-boots wrapped around her small feet and I reach for it. "Sammy, I want to go home…"

"I know," I whisper as I hold the blade in my hand. I swallow and steel myself, meeting her eyes. She doesn't see the blade; she doesn't seem to see anything as her eyes flicker and struggle to stay focused. I stoop down, planting the softest of kisses against her lips before I sit back, inhaling nervously. "I love you, MaddiGrace Moore, and you're gonna marry me the moment we get home."

There's a distant canon fire as her last breath rattles in her chest. It's now or never, I know and I tighten my grip around the blade. Loud voices echo around me, calling for my attention, demanding I drop my knife. I hear the hovercrafts and I glance back, over my shadow. Before I know quite what I'm doing, I've pulled MaddiGrace's limp body into my lamp and I press the blade to my throat, watching as the peacekeepers form a large white band around me. Waiting.

One of them takes a step toward me and I respond like a self-destructive wild animal. I cling to MaddiGrace with one hand and the other forces the blade across my throat, so deeply and so quickly that the waterfall of blood sprays the closest of the peacekeepers.

I slump brokenly over MaddiGrace as they race forward. I feel hands on me, tugging me, but I cling to MaddiGrace until my strength fails me and blackness eats at my vision. Darkness encases me so tightly that, as I fade into it, I know there's no way I'll be coming back from this.

They can't have me if I'm _dead_.


	3. Chapter One

_Chapter One_

_' "There's so much sad gonna flood the ocean,_

_We're all in tears from a world that's broken…" '_

The Script – _We Cry_.

**The History of Panem**

Written by Sam Holloway

_Many years ago, the face of the Earth changed into something unrecognisable as the '_End of the World'_ made an unwelcome appearance. Sea levels rose so high they wiped out major landmasses and modern civilisation. It is uncertain just how high the sea rose, but it was enough to reshape the Earth. _

_Those who survived the apocalypse that wiped out more than anyone would have ever imagined possible, a nation rose from the oceans and established itself as the head of what had been left behind. This nation became known by all as Panem, and through the ruins, it gleamed like a crown jewel as order returned and banished the chaos inflicted cruel punishments on what was left of Earth's inhabitants._

_Sometime later, Panem grew large enough that it was forced to split itself into thirteen separate districts, each of these responsible for producing and gathering goods of various industries in order to meet the ever growing needs of the free and wealthy residents of the Capitol._

_The Capitol was a cruel ruler, so strict and unyielding, meeting only the most basic needs and requirements of the districts that a rebellion brought them together in an attempt to fight the oppressive ruling of the Capitol government._

_It is uncertain just how long the rebellion went on for, or exactly how many causalities the rebellion claimed (_for every citizen of the Capitol that was killed, two rebels died_), but by the end of the ensuing madness, the Capitol quelled the rebellion and successfully defeated twelve of the districts._

_The thirteenth was obliterated. _

I didn't realise I was holding my breath until Mr Morton rose to his feet, his eyes lifting from the papers he held in his hands to meet mine. It was at this moment, with my head fuzzy and my lungs screaming in protest, that I forced myself to take a deep breath of the sweet-tasting oxygen. Mr Morton waited for a few moments, until I had soothed my protesting lungs, before he crumpled my assignment in his hands.

"Wha-!? Hey!" I exclaimed. My feet started moving for the bin before it erupted into flames.

I jerked to a stop and watched as fiery tongues of red and gold licked the crumpled papers, causing them to curl and shrivel in on themselves, turning first brown as the heat of the flames began to burn them and then black, following through by crumbling into little more than grey-white ash as the fire died down and all that was left behind were the dirty grey mixture at the bottom of the metal trashcan.

"What…?" I turned slowly.

Mr Morton met my gaze squarely as frustrated tears burnt the backs of my eyes, threatening to slip free from my struggling hold on them. I had spent _hours_ working on that – _days_ even. I had missed lunch, missed spending time with my family and friends; I had become a _slave_ to that paper and to watch it go up in flames was… it made all that struggle, all those times I had forced myself not to call it quits and just throw in the towel… it made it all _worthless_.

"I'm sorry, Sam." Mr Morton perched himself down on the edge of his desk. I took several steps back from the trashcan and folded my arms over my chest, feeling my veins flood with outrage. "It was a great peace, worthy of an A at least. It's obvious just how hard you worked on it and I am incredibly proud of you. You're a talented young man."

"But…" I spluttered angrily, searching for the words I wanted. If he weren't my teacher, I think I may have just hit him, I realised as I slumped into a seat, burying my face in my hands. I let my shoulders slump, felt every ounce of anger ebb from my body with every breath I took, and let myself feel the crashing waves of defeat wash over me. "You burnt it…"

"Sam, you are many things, but you are still young and foolish above all else." Mr Morton's hand fell on my shoulder and he gave it a tight squeeze as he stood beside me. "This world is full of hidden dangers, things that could get you into more trouble than you'd ever be able to get yourself out of or even begin to understand. Sometimes, the blunt and God's honest truth isn't the way to go about it."

"But my paper was…" I began, but he held up a hand, effectively silencing me.

"Sam, as your teacher, it is my job to not only encourage you to form your own views on life and the world, to teach you everything I know and to help you fulfil your potential, but it is also my job to protect you. Even if that means I have to _protect you from yourself_." His grey eyes held mine, fixing me in a stare so hard I almost had to look away.

"I don't understand, Mr Morton." I informed him slowly, tasting the words on my tongue.

"That paper, while excellent and factual, could get you into trouble, Sam. If it feel into the wrong hands, it could be read as something other than was it is. It could be looked at as if you were a rebel, or you supported the rebels, or simply looked at as if you were against the Capitol." Mr Morton's voice had dropped until it was barely above a whisper. Despite how close we were, I had to strain my ears to hear him and replay the words over in my mind several times before I understood. "Do you get it now?"

I nodded. "But I'm not a rebel, and I'm not supporting any rebels…"

"It doesn't matter." He replied softly, sadly.

"The only thing I am," I muttered. "The only thing out of everything you said… I don't agree with the Capitol."

Mr Morton shushed me quicker than ever, his eyes searching frantically around the room to make certain no one had heard me. I tilted my head slightly, watching his obvious fear with a faint glimmer of confusion surfacing in my thoughts.

"Sam," He whispered to me, urgency lacing his voice. "You need to understand this, above all else. No one can _ever_ hear you say _that_. Not friends, not family. You shouldn't even _think _it." He swallowed loudly. "As far as anyone should be concerned, Sam, you are little more than a happy boy from District 12 who loves life and is unconcerned with anything political. You follow the rules, Sam. You don't have an opinion on them. _It's all the difference between life and death_."

"Life and death – what?" I frowned.

"Sam, even implying that you disagree with the Capitol could result in your death." He rose to his feet, turning his back on me. His shoulders had grown so tight I was certain that they would put up a fight against relaxing. I rose to my feet, moving closer just slightly, curiosity biting into my being. "It can get you killed, your family, your friends… and _her_… _they will kill her_…"

I doubted her was talking to me, or about me, or anyone I knew. I threw one final glance at the trashcan with the ashy leftovers of my paper and turned away, heading for the door. I pressed a hand against the wood frame, glancing over my shoulder at Mr Morton.

He was just a shell of a man as he sat at the opposite end of the room, clinging to a well-loved monochrome photograph. It was extremely battered, a faint shadow of what it had once been, but even from here I could make out what it was off.

Eyes that radiated happiness and sunshine peered over Mr Morton's shoulder, paralysing me as I drank in the freckled skin, the sweet curl of the lips, the hand curled as she blew a kiss at the photographer. It was as Mr Morton's fingers brushed lovingly, tenderly over her face that I saw the veil pushed back, the flowers woven into her hair. It was his _wife_.

My heart turned could, pumping ice through my veins as realisation struck me. Even in the safety of my own mind, I couldn't believe it entirely. Not really. But it seemed the only possible explanation. The more I tried to pass it over, the stronger it reappeared. Over and over, I found the question weaving itself forward, into the forefront of my mind, until it was the only thing I could think of. I could taste the words on my tongue, feel my lips forming the shapes of the words.

But I couldn't bring myself to ask the question I already knew the answer to. Because it was obvious. Glaringly obvious. Painfully, bitterly obvious. And if I did ask it, and I got the answer I didn't really want but already knew… I wouldn't be able to smile. To laugh. To pretend that today had never happened and that I'd never written a paper that had had to be burnt.

Why did the Capitol kill Mr Morton's wife?

…

I'm not sure how I managed to hide my sudden lack of enthusiasm for life from my family, but I managed. Something about our evening meal was different, strained. I could feel the tension in the air as my mother set down a large bowl full of an aromatic stew made from the cheapest cuts of venison that my father could find – and by cheapest, I mean the parts that no one else is really willing to eat. So between the crappy little pieces of meat floating amongst tiny cuts of potato, carrot, and onion, and the week old chunks of bread placed on a plate beside the stew, dinner was considered served and we dug in.

My grandparents were absent from the room, which could only mean they were elsewhere, probably sharing a meal with friends. This could mean one of two things. Either one of my brothers or I were in trouble (_or all of us_), or our parents had something extremely important to tell us that my grandparents had decided was something they didn't need to be around for. Neither of these was a good thing.

Despite not feeling particularly hungry, I dunked my bowl into what was left of the stew and filled it to the brim before setting it down in front of me. I could feel my stomach knotting itself with my intestines as I picked up my healthy-sized chunk of bread, tearing small chunks for it and dipping them into the broth.

"Mum," Beside me, my twelve-year-old brother, Max, is so stiff I swear if someone was to touch him, he'd snap clean in two. Everyone freezes, their eyes flicking to Max so quickly I swear we were just waiting for him to open his mouth. His eyes are big and round, filled so intensely with worry that I almost have to swallow the bile that rises in my throat. "What's going on?"

"After dinner, Max. When I've put your sister and brothers to bed." Mum assures him, her pale blue eyes softening. She looks at my father, who returns her gaze with such a worried look that I almost turn and run. Whatever is coming is worse than I could ever have thought. "Eat your dinner, all of you."

"You heard Mum," Dad nods his head, indicating that we are to clear our plates.

It doesn't placate my little brother, but he does begin to pick at his dinner. Beside him, Joseph and Carter and tucking into their meal so festively one might almost believe it's Christmas time. I guess they realised that Max and I were the only ones who needed to know what was going on right now, which in turn meant they were completely off the hook.

I did my best to finish my bowl of stew and my bread, but it was hard. Whatever was now hanging over my head and Max's was enough to cause my stomach to pretty much reject the food I was trying to consume. When I'd finished most of it, I pushed my bowl aside and set down my spoon, leaving my last chunk of bread where it sat on the table.

Joseph and Carter were soon ushered from the room, leaving Max and I alone with Dad as Mum carried Julie away. When Dad didn't start speaking, I knew we were waiting for Mum to return. My stomach was physically painful by the time she came back and settled down into the chair opposite Dad, putting them at the head and foot of the table. She reached forward, taking Max's hand in her own and clinging to it.

"What's going on, Dad?" I finally dared to speak, almost cursing myself when my voice didn't come out as confident as I wanted it to. He looked as if he wanted to cry, as if he might breakdown right then and there, but instead he merely nodded and took a deep, rattly breath that scared me more than anything. "Dad…?"

"There's going to be a gathering in the town square next week." Dad informed me, his voice blunt and to the point. I was almost certain that he had been trying to find the easiest way to tell Max and I whatever was coming and, for a moment, I was struck by metaphorical lighting. "The whole town will be there. It's _compulsory_."

A broken sob tore from the other end of the table and I turned my head, looking at my mother. She clung to Max's hand with one of her own, the other covered her face as she cried, her fragile body devastated by the violent sobs that tore through her. Dad didn't move to comfort her, though. Max's other hand dropped under the table and nudged against my leg and I knew what he wanted. I moved my hand until I found his, gripping his small hand in mine and squeezing it tightly.

Dad shook his head, looking like he didn't want to say whatever was coming next. "People from the Capitol will be here. And when they leave, they'll be taking two kids from the District with them… a boy… and a girl…"

I stiffened, my eyes growing wide. "Why?"

"They haven't told us much." He swallowed loudly and cleared his voice as it grew thick with unshed tears. "Just that there are two kids going from every district… every district… to play in some kind of games."

"That doesn't sound so bad...?" My voice hitched at the end, making it more of a question that a statement. Mum very nearly roared with a new wave of tears at the other end of the table, but I didn't look at her. Her pain was hurting me, hurting Max, but I was too busy waiting for Dad to reply. Too busy waiting to hear whatever he said next.

"Out of those twenty-four kids, Sam…" His voice broke as he said my name and he looked down, up, anywhere but at either me or more. "Only one…" He buried his head in both hands, as if this part was the hardest above all else. "Only one kid will ever come back…"

"W-what happens to the others?" Max's whispered question is so quiet, so fragile, that I think it went unheard until Mum tears from the room, swinging our heads in her direction. She disappears through the door, in her and Dad's room, and I feel my blood turn to ice. "D-Dad?"

Dad looks at us both as he rises to his feet. He opens his mouth and closes it several times, as if he can't find the words he wants to say, and then he shakes his head and turns to leave, heading off to comfort my mother and leaving Max and I alone. Alone, to process and try to understand this information as best we can.

"Sammy?" Max whimpered beside me, "What's going to happen?"

"I don't know, Max." I inform him shakily, feeling weak as I climbed to my feet. I pulled him with me, still holding tightly to his head. "We should go find Rocky and MaddiGrace… I-I think they'll…"

Whatever I was going to say, I will never know. The sharp, desperate knocks on the door were enough to tell me that MaddiGrace, my best friend in the whole of District 12, had found me, instead. I don't drop Max's hand as I move to the door and throw it open.

I don't even have time to take in her appearance before she's in my arms, crying into my shoulder. The sudden impact of her small body knocks me back a step or two and to catch myself, I let go of Max's hand. With both hands now free, I wind them around my friend's body and I hold her close as I watch Max slip away to join Rocky, to deal with things in their own way.

When she finally pulls away, I'm too numb to really do much more than sink back into my spot at the table. She stands awkwardly by the door, looking out of place. I had never imagined it possible for MaddiGrace Moore to look out of place in my home, which was a second home to her, but she did. She looked as if she wanted to be anywhere but here.

"You know?"

I nod, letting my eyes evaluate her state. Tears stain her pale cheeks, make her eyes look puffy and swollen. Her lips are wet, swollen, which leaves me with the realisation that's she's chewed them ruthlessly. I swallow and move my eyes from her tortured face, letting them drop to the table in front of me. My hands find a deep gouge in the wood and I let my fingers trace it over and over, let my mind replay my father's words as my numb cocoon keeps me safe from feeling.

"What did they tell you?" Her voice wobbles as she drops into the seat opposite me and I lift my eyes, catching her stormy-blue ones. There's so much fear and pain in those tear-damp eyes that a shard of pain assaults my heart, creating the first crack in my armour of numbness. I wince and look away from her eyes, letting my gaze dance over the black curls she's fisted her hands in, twisting her fingers amongst the strands so tightly I almost wonder if we'll have to cut them free.

"Twenty-four go in." I grunted, swallowing the lump in my throat that tries to snuff my voice. "One comes out."

"Is that all?"

"Pretty much." I feel my shoulders lift and fall in a weak shrug, but it's almost as if they don't belong to me. MaddiGrace reaches across the table and takes my hand in hers. I stare at our hands, her fingers entwined with mine, and I'm puzzled as to how she freed those tiny appendages from her hair so quickly. "What if it's Max? Or Rocky?"

"Or you." She countered firmly, her voice surprisingly cold and hard. I don't think I had ever heard her use that kind of tone.

"It could be any of us." I finally remind her. It's as if I've slapped her, actually. MaddiGrace pulls her tiny hand out of mine and wraps her arms so tightly around herself that I think she might just strangle herself, but she merely sits there, wide-eyed and shivering, breathing heavily. Not gagging. Not struggling for air. "Or it could be none of us."

"I hope so." She declares, so sure that this is really what she wants.

I want to agree with her, but part of me hates myself for even considering it a good thing. How is it okay for me to want someone else to have their family torn apart so one, or possibly two, of their children can go to the Capitol and maybe not come back? I shake myself mentally and look up at her, at the tears that are suddenly crawling down her cheeks. It could be two of our friends going to play in these games, and they might not come back. At least, one of them won't.

It's not very high that _either_ of them would. Whatever these games are about, whatever they have in store for us, it's almost certain that District 12 will not be the district to welcome back one of the children that the Capitol claimed for their game.

…

"_QUIET_!" Mr Morton's voice _demands_ our attention, our silence, our obedience and leaves no room for question.

All around me, the room slips into silence. It's thick and uncomfortable, the events of last night hanging in the air for all of us. Clearly, every parent in District 12 had felt the need to inform their children between the ages of twelve to eighteen of what the Capitol was now asking of us.

"I know you have a lot of questions, I know you're all desperate to find out what's going on and what could happen, and I can assure you, I will tell you everything I know… if you'll just be quiet…" Mr Morton continues, combing a hand through his chocolate-brown hair. He's going grey at the temples, but he can't be much older than my dad, I figure. At least he doesn't have to work in the mines.

"Mr Morton?" MaddiGrace's hand shoots into the air, holding surprisingly still and straight as she waits for him.

I'm surprised she's the one to ask a question first. She looks tired, dark rings circling her eyes to inform me of her sleepless night. Her hair is a mess and she's wearing yesterday's clothes, but aside from that, she looks more together than some of the kids in our classroom.

"Yes, MaddiGrace?" He nods once in her direction.

"How much do you know about what is going to happen?" She speaks so quietly that I lean forward to listen better, but there isn't much need. Everyone is quiet, deadly so. It's like we've all collectively held our breath. "I mean, all my parents could tell me was that two of us – a boy and a girl – would be going to the Capitol to play in some games… and out of twenty-four, only one could come back…"

There's a hushed murmur of agreement from the rest of us and then, as Mr Morton looks ready to answer MaddiGrace's question, we fall into a collective silence. Each and every student in the room seems to be in unison, almost as if we are one, single being. Today must certainly be Mr Morton's easiest day as a teacher.

"I'm not going to pretend I have all the answers, because I don't. In fact, I don't really know much at all, but…" He paused, waiting for the confused exclamations to die down enough for him to proceed. "But," He repeated. "I'm aware of how confused you all are and I will explain what I know to you, according to the information given to me by the Mayor.

"From what I understand, on the first day of your holidays next week, at noon, there will be a '_reaping_'. Everyone will gather in the town square, and everyone eligible to become a '_tribute_' will have to sign in. So anyone between the ages of twelve and eighteen will have their fingers pricked, their names recorded, and then they will head to a roped off area and stand with children their own age and gender. Someone from the Capitol will be standing on the stage and, like a lottery, they will pick two names. A boy's name and a girl's name…

"These two '_tributes_' will be given about an hour or two to say goodbye to their friends and family – three minutes for each person wanting to say goodbye – and then they will be catching a train to the Capitol." He swallowed. "You'll spend a week in the Capitol and on the exact day that the rebellion ended a year ago, the games you've been selected to participate in will begin."

"You know a lot more than we do." A boy snapped from the back of the room.

I glanced over my shoulder, trying to remember his name. No matter how hard I searched my mind for it, I couldn't find it. Guilt gnawed at my stomach as I looked forward again, at Mr Morton. If that boy was the one to go to the Capitol and I didn't know his name… and he died… I shook my head furiously, fixing my eyes on Mr Morton.

"You have to understand that it is hard for your parents. They know that any one of you could be taken and sent off to the Capitol. They know that you may not come back." He offered. "It is hard to even begin to imagine the kind of pain that they must be going through right now, the kind of heartache they are feeling knowing there's nothing they can do."

"But what about us?" A girl – Lucy, I think, trying to ignore my guilt at the uncertainty of what her name was – called out. "They aren't the ones going!"

"Yeah!" Someone else chimed in.

Mr Morton's shout for silence once again settled the room, but this time there was an angry buzz to the air as students began to feel to full effects of Mr Morton's more informative details. Betrayal and anger were the most predominant factors in most of the students' emotions, but there was also fear and uncertainty, worry… numerous emotions that was as powerful as the last, as crippling as the last.

"I agree. You all should have been given every detail that everyone else new. You are the ones who really have to deal with this, to stand and wait and see if it is your name that is picked. I understand that you're angry and frightened, and you have every right to feel that way, but I can assure you – your parents are feeling the same, if not worse." He combed a hand through his hair.

"So it has to do with the rebellion." I declared coolly. Mr Morton's eyes fell on me and, very slowly, he nodded his head. Confirming it. Confirming just how badly the rebels had screwed up. Whatever was in store for us now, we had them to blame. Pure rage burnt in my stomach as I turned my head to peer out the window. "We had nothing to do with it – none of us _children_ – but we're being punished regardless. I hope those rebels are _happy_ now."

Mr Morton sounded broken when he finally replied. He didn't try to comfort us, didn't try to convince us that the rebels had been fighting a fight they thought was in our best interests… instead, he left us with his words that could offer us no hope for tomorrow. They were cold, they were bitter, but they were so dangerously true that they had the power to destroy us all.

"_Children will always be punished for the sins of their fathers_."


	4. Chapter Two

_Chapter Two_

_' "Say that it's gonna be alright,_

_That it's gonna be okay…" '_

Vanessa Hudgens – _Say Okay_.

School is cancelled and an early holiday takes over the District by force, encouraging a swift reaction from the Peacekeepers. These men, carrying heavy batons and dressed in perfectly pressed white uniforms, enforced the 'peace' with harsher force than necessary. The only thing that seemed to keep them from killing every last rebellious youth (_everyone seemed to be responding badly to the new of the upcoming trip to the Capitol_ _for two unlucky children_) was the knowledge that two of us would have to leave in a week's time.

Clearly, they knew what was coming better than any of us. The sick smiles that tickled the corners of their lips and darkened their otherwise emotionless eyes… these were the small, tell-tale signs that informed me that they knew everything. And despite knowing that two or three of the Peacekeepers were suffering in the very same way our parents were, it wasn't enough for me to hate them all.

At the end of the day, the Peacekeepers were safe, and even the minority knew more than _we_ did.

"Sammy!"

A small, childlike hand collides harshly with the table in front of me, snapping me from my attention more effectively than anything else could have. I blink several times in quick succession to rid my eyes of the film that have formed, blurring the world in front of me, and stare at MaddiGrace as she dances from foot to foot, waving her hand in front of her as if it has suddenly burst into flames.

"Hurt?" I can't help the laugh that tears from deep inside me; ripping from somewhere I thought was long gone. MaddiGrace's eyes turn hard as she freezes on the spot, her hand hovering just in front of her mouth as if she's debating whether it would fit inside.

_It would_, I think but refrain from saying, _because her mouth is certainly big enough_.

"What were you thinking about?" She asks me when she's finished throwing her offending hand a dirty look. It falls to her side and I watch as it curls around the material of her skirt, clinging to the rough and dirty fabric, fisting around the handful of cheap material like it's the last thing keeping her alive. "I've been talking to myself for, like, an hour… _so it better be good_."

"My assignment." I offer lamely, because I know that she doesn't really want to know. She tilts her head, her eyes faintly disbelieving. I'm struck by the memory of a puppy I once saw. It couldn't have been very old and was probably only just able to see… but the way it tilted its head, looking at the world in front of it… I grin and shrug. "I didn't finish it."

"Really?" MaddiGrace snorts. "You need to sort your priorities out, Little Sammy." She slings an arm around my waist and pulls me away from where I'm leaning against the wall of the school building. The smile on her face is infectious enough that I'm soon mirroring it. "I reckon Morton will let it slide for you. You are his _pet_, after all."

"You're just jealous." I tease, rubbing my hand over her bouncy black curls. MaddiGrace screams so loudly that several curious glances are thrown our way (this is followed by the rolling of eyes as soon as the people of District 12 realise just who screamed) as MaddiGrace pulls away from me and bends toward the nearest window, staring at her reflection with absolute horror.

"Look what you've done!" It's practically a squawk, but I know better to tell her this as I position myself against the window frame. We could be here a while. She licks the palms of both her hands and smooths down her hair, forcing the flyaway strands to lie flat on her head as her grey eyes widen in absolute horror. "You've ruined it!"

"It wasn't that crash hot to start with." I inform her with a roll of my eyes.

MaddiGrace glowers – and I know it's for me – but she cannot bring herself to look away from the window for a split second. She's like a dog with a bone. Unable to let it go even for a second because someone or something may snatch it her guard is down and her attention is elsewhere. I sigh and comb a hand through my own hair as I wait, arms crossed lazily over my chest.

"I can't believe you touched my _hair_!" She whines, still trying to fix the imperfections that only she seems to be able to see. I groan aloud, which sends another cold look into the window, and roll my eyes as dramatically as possible. "This _can't_ be happening, _it just can't_! I was having a _good_ hair day – _a good one_!"

I don't know how much more of this I can take before I snap. I'm too fragile right now, my normally positive exterior and optimistic personality is splintering and I'm not far off crumbling entirely. MaddiGrace's meltdown over her appearance is far from unusual, but right now, right at this very point in time, it seems pettier, more superficial than even I, her best friend, can handle.

My hands close around her shoulders and I swing her to face me before I fully realise what I'm doing. MaddiGrace almost cries in protest as I drag her from the window. She takes on the role of a toddler on the verge of a temper tantrum and it takes every ounce of my willpower not to shake her. I hold her tight, keeping her directly in front of me, until she stills enough for my hands to move and begin smoothing the long, dark cascade of curls that tumbles to her waist in an seemingly endless waterfall of midnight.

"MG," I begin slowly, gently, as my hands brush over her head and fix the damage I've supposedly done. "You look just perfect. Just as pretty and perfect as always."

"More beautiful than my mother?" She whimpers, like a fragile and broken child who's just woken, screaming, from the most horrible nightmare possible (in MaddiGrace's case, it would probably be a scratch on her face, or some other facial blemish – even as a child, she was appearance consumed).

"More beautiful than your mother." I echo.

"The prettiest in all of District 12?" She cocks a perfectly shaped brow, her grey eyes expecting an immediately response.

"The prettiest." I assure her, biting back the grin.

She beams at me and then cocks her head to the side, wetting her lips. I feel my brows skyrocket as I realise that whatever she asks next is not something I am expecting – which will either be good or bad, depending on what comes out of her mouth.

"Prettier than _your_ mother?" She is the definition of innocence as she stands there, her head cocked to the side and her posture almost regal. She holds herself like a queen, like a winner. She holds herself like she is the most perfect, pristine example of beauty. Considering her strikingly pale complexion – blemish free, of course – coupled with her rosy cheeks, her button nose and full, pouty lips and big, round, doe-like eyes… it's fair enough to say she was a top contender, if not the ultimate beauty of 12.

"No." I tease, slipping my arm through hers and setting off. The urge to kiss her fills my being, consuming me so entirely it's hard to fight off, to keep buried just enough that it is unnoticeable. I almost miss the pointed look she throws me, the almost-disappointed-but-not-even-slightly-surprised smiled that follows it does little to quell my fluttering stomach and dry mouth. "No one could ever come close to my mother's beauty. Not even you, MG."

"Glad to hear it." I wince at the familiar voice, freezing beside MaddiGrace as she spins around and embraces my mother so warmly, so completely; it's almost hard to believe that she isn't really MaddiGrace's mother. "That's exactly how it should be."

"Hey, Mum…" I groan, my cheeks turning bright pink as I offer her a one-armed hug. I'm not ashamed to hug my mother, not even slightly bothered by people seeing any affection passing between us, however I have strong issues with her overhearing almost anything said between MaddiGrace and I. The teasing in my household, although always done with love and humour intended, is almost brutal at times and everlasting regardless. We still tease Max about the first time he ever kissed a girl – and he was a toddler at the time.

"Sammy," She smiles as she falls into an easy gait beside us, her fingers entwined with MaddiGrace's. My mother and MaddiGrace, while as close as a mother and daughter, share no resemblance whatsoever. My mother is deeply tanned, her eyes as blue as an afternoon sky, her hair as fair as the strands of white-gold grass that springs up in the meadows outside District 12 in the summertime. The pair of them are striking contrasts, but each beautiful in their own way. "MG."

"Mrs Holloway," MaddiGrace's eyes glint mischievously and I'm almost certain I want the ground to swallow me whole. I'm almost certain that right now, I'd rather be at the Capitol, getting ready for whatever it is they're planning. _Almost_. "I think Sammy has a crush on Mr Morton."

"I what!?" I snort disbelievingly, almost choking on the words. "I don't think so."

"He has a crush alright." My mother smiles so sweetly, so openly, that I almost regret telling MaddiGrace that Mum was the prettier of them. "But I don't think it's your teacher."

MaddiGrace frowns. "Who is it?"

Mum throws me a knowing look and continues on, almost acting as if she hadn't even heard MaddiGrace's question. My fleeting feelings of regret are snubbed as we slip into home, calling out cheery greetings to my brothers as they pause to look up. MaddiGrace's question springs forth again and my brothers' pick up on it, each trying to weasel the answer from my mother's lips as she accepts Julie from Max's expectant arms.

It isn't until tea time that the questions and pesterings finally stop. The moment my father walks through the door, covered from head-to-foot in coal dust, MaddiGrace hurries off home. My brothers rush to greet Dad, not even allowing him a moment with my mother before they're climbing all over him, each informing him about their day. Except for Max. Max moves slowly around the table, setting it as Mum struggles with a large pot of a God-knows-what's-in-it stew.

I take the large, steaming bowl from Mum and set it down on the table. My heart pounds inside my chest, feeling so intensely with love as I watch my family, that for a moment I almost forget about the threat hanging over our heads. And then, as Max finishes setting the table and my father demands Joseph and Carter go and wash themselves up, it slams back into me with the same ferocity as a steam-engine.

We sit at the table as a family – save for Grandma and Grandpa, who are again missing – and Dad does the honour of breaking our bread and handing it out while, one by one, the others fill their bowls to overflowing with my mother's stew. When it comes to me, I hesitate before I half-fill my bowl and begin dipping chunks of my bread into it.

"Sammy admitted I was the most beautiful woman in 12." Mum declared suddenly. I groaned, wrinkling my nose, but it was a welcome distraction from where my mind was heading.

My father smiled approvingly as my brothers all erupted into giggles. Only Julie, held loosely in one of my mother's arms, didn't understand what was being shared. She smiled wetly and gurgled as my mother slipped a piece of unknown meat between her lips.

"You have great taste, Sam," He nodded, eyes twinkling. "However, she's already spoken for."

"Ew!" Max exclaimed. "That's gross, Dad!"

"I have to agree." Mum chuckled. "I am far from _spoken for_. Married, yes, but I am my own person regardless."

"They all say that until it comes to…" Dad winked at me, but whatever he intended to finish with was smoothly silenced as my mother sharply cleared her throat.

….

_My heart pounds so loudly in my chest that I swear the entire of District 12 can hear as I stand before them, alone on the raised podium except for the priest who stands before me. My stomach is in knots, my hands are so slick with sweat it's nearly impossible for me to touch anything without leaving damp marks. _

_I can barely hear a sound over the blood rushing through my veins, thundering in my ears. It takes every ounce of self-control that I have to keep me standing here, waiting for _her_ to appear at the very end of the parted onlookers. _

_I freeze as music strikes up, freezing everything inside of me. My heart stops beating and my blood stops racing, leaving me hearing nothing but the gentle lull of music that reminds me of a bittersweet lullaby. It's almost impossible to breathe as I slowly turn my head, letting my eyes land on the striking pair making an appearance._

_My dad is the first person I notice. He stands tall and proud, dressed in the most expensive suit I've ever laid eyes on. He holds himself properly, standing at his full height. His dark hair has been slicked back and he is completely clean shaven, not even the slightest hint of stubble. His blue eyes sparkle with life as he guides the beauty on his arm down the carpeted aisle between the rows of onlookers._

_I can't see the beauty's face, but somehow I just _know_ it is _her_. I have never seen a dress so beautiful and devastating, so elaborate and yet so perfectly plain in my entire life. Beads of crystal sparkle along the train as the walks, the rays of gold that fall down on her illuminate the small crystals woven into the white embroidery that decorates the dress of purity and innocence. The thin veil that obscures her face and falls down her back hides her efficiently – save for several dark curls that tumble free._

_My father helps her onto the podium, places her hand in mine, and then moves to join my mother at the front of the gathered crowd. I can see the faintest of smiles on the girl's lips through her veil as I hastily let her hand go, wiping it on my own too-expensive suit. I take her hand again and I find that I can breathe again, that my heart resumes beating._

_I don't hear a word anyone says. I don't hear a single sound. But some part of me knows when I'm supposed to lift the veil. I peel it back slowly, marvelling at MaddiGrace Moore – Holloway, now – as she stands before me. Her hair is pinned back, except for a few perfectly curled strands that frame her elfin face. Her grey eyes are shadowy, smoky, and I find myself lost in them. Rosy cheeks, beautifully pink lips… she's _perfect_._

_"You're supposed to kiss me now," She teases, as the corner of her lip turns up. _

_"Oh, yeah…" I nod stupidly. "Yes, right…"_

_I lean forward and suddenly I'm kissing _her_. Her lips are so soft, so gentle. They move against mine, moulding to the shape of mine so perfectly that I start to wonder if she was made for me. She seems to fit me like a piece of a puzzle, slotting into place just right. I can barely breathe when I pull back, my forehead against hers as I struggle to catch my breath._

_The moment my eyes slip open, I regret it immediately._

_MaddiGrace's mouth is open in a silent scream, her skin peeling away from her face as a fire consumes her from inside. Slices of her skin peel away completely to the bone and float into the air, turning to ash and smoky embers as they float away. Her hands are wrapped so tightly around my forearms as she burns from the inside out that by the time she crumples into nothing but skeletal remains, I'm left with scalded handprints to remember her by._

_My horror is so intense that I'm forced to look away. The once beautiful scenery of our wedding, of District 12, is nothing but crumpled remains. Skeletons grin up at me, chunks of flesh still smouldering on their bones. I can smell the burning of their hair, of their flesh, as I stand amongst the destruction._

_Buildings lay in rubble. Bodies – skeletons – and left here and there. My eyes find my family before I can stop myself. I can't tell it's them except for the one beside where my father had sat. The smaller skeleton holds an even tinier one in its arms – cradling it like a mother would a baby…_

_A scream tears into the air around me, and for a moment, I'm unable to find its source. And then I realise. I understand. I know where it's coming from. It's so glaringly obvious that I almost laugh… I would have, if that scream wasn't still haunting me. Destroying the sound of the lullaby I'd heard as my dad led MaddiGrace to me… that scream…_

I'm_ the one screaming._

"Sam…! Sam, wake up! Wake up, now!"

The rough hands shaking me aren't the first thing I notice when my eyes snap open. The first thing I notice is the smell. The vile, disgusting smell that fills my nostrils and invades every pore in my body as my stomach lurches violently. The smell of charred flesh, of burnt hair…

The next thing I notice is the scream. The desperate, broken scream of a child. The scream of a small child who has seen something they shouldn't have, has witnessed something that they would never be able to come back from.

"Sam, it's alright!"

The hands are quick enough to let me go as I tumble over the side of the bed, effectively emptying my entire stomach of not just last night's meal, but all the burning acid and bile I can manage before I'm left with nothing but gut-wrenching heaves. Tears stream down my face, my nose and throat burn, but I can still smell the burning skin and hair.

A glass of water appears in my hands and I gulp at it until it is pried away. I understand why as I bring it back up, my stomach so dangerously fragile that I know it was a foolish thing to do when I manage to stop heaving. Fresh tears stream down my cheeks as I slump against my bed frame, leaning back into it as sweat drips from my skin and the pile of vomit beside me starts to intensify in scent, mixing with charred skin and smouldering hair.

"It's alright, Sammy." The voice – my father's, I realise – is reassuring but worried. I take the water he slips into my hands and warily sip at it, wanting milk instead. Milk would coat my throat better than the cool water, but I know better. Milk and an upset stomach aren't a good mix. "You had us worried, Sammy."

I blink up at him stupidly before I let my eyes fall to the bedroom door. My mother stands there, holding a wide-eyed and clearly terrified Julie. My brothers, clearly having leapt from their beds around mine, hide partially behind her legs, staring at me as if I'm some sort of monster. Only Max, pale-faced and shadowy eyed, moves slowly into the bedroom. He climbs onto my bed beside Dad and hugs his knees close to his chest as I look away and take another sip of my drink.

"We thought you were being murdered." Dad supplies as he rubs soothing circles on my back. Mum drags Joseph and Carter away and returns moments later, Julie gone but a bucket of water and a large supply of rags in hand. She cleans my puddle of vomit quietly, her eyes flickering worriedly to me every now and again as she works. "You haven't screamed like that since you were a baby."

"You didn't even scream that badly as a baby." Mum chuckles, but there's no humour behind it. I finish my water and swallow, wincing at the burning I'm greeted with. Mum leaves the room with my empty glass and the rags and bucket and returns, holding nothing but a full glass of water with she places beside me. She sits down beside me, against the front of Dad's legs, and I let her pull me down onto her lap. Her hands gently brush my hair from her forehead and I stare wide-eyed up at her and Dad. "What was the dream about, my Little Sammy?"

My eyes flicker to Max and I bite my lip. Dad follows my gaze and he orders him from the room, ignoring every small utter of protest that Max has to offer. When he's gone and I'm certain none of the boys are lingering near our bedroom door, I slowly relay my dream to my parents. I leave the worst details out, of course, but _I_ remember them. Saying the words out loud burns each violent, vile image deeper into my eyelids so that I have no choice but to seem them in flashes every time I blink or close my eyes.

Neither of my parents say anything, I don't think they know what to say. Dad picks me up as effortlessly as if I were just a baby and places me back into my bed. He tucks me in and sits by my feet as Mum curls up behind me, an arm draped around me. Like a child, a small and perpetually frightened boy, I roll over to face her and bury my head in her chest. She holds me tight and I cry myself into a welcomely dreamless sleep.

…

The day before the people from the Capitol arrives far too soon and before anyone is ready for it. The miners stop working in order to prepare the town square for their arrival, to sort out the Justice Building and to clean and brighten up the entire of District 12 in their honour. No one says anything, but it is evident that fear has set deep into our hearts as we work. Visits from the Capitol are never good, but a visit that will take two children away…?

"Sammy," MaddiGrace's grey eyes fix on mine as she looks up from where she sits, her face splashed with green and red paint. I cock a brow as I return her gaze, waiting. "How does it look?"

"You forgot the '_i_' in _Capitol_." I inform her softly, not even bothering to smile. She looks down at her hours of work, at the banner made from a couple of old sheets, and scowls so darkly I almost bring myself to worry that the lines creasing her face will become permanent. In a fit of rage, MaddiGrace climbs to her feet and kicks the paint she'd been working with over, spilling puddles of red and yellow, blue and green, all across the sheets. "MG?"

"I spent hours planning it!" She snarls as she jumps up and down on the sheets, leaving shoe treads in the puddles of paint. I can't help but grin as I watch her, watch the rage slowly seep from her as her shoulders slump and she stares unhappily down at the banner she'd been slaving over. She begins to pace back and forth, looking increasingly frustrated. "It's ruined, Sammy."

"No." I shake my head slowly and she jerks to a stop, her eyes finding mine as disbelief falls from her face. I reach out and take her hand, pulling her slowly from the banner. "No, MG, it's not. We can fix it."

She throws the now multi-coloured banner a look I can't name, her eyes dancing over the tread-prints and scowls back up at me, head cocked to the side. "And how do you reckon we'll do that?"

"When it dries." I smile. "When it dries, I'll show you."

We wander around for several hours while we wait for her banner to dry. We help with small tasks around the town square – like setting up the tables that the Peacekeepers will be at the sign us in, cleaning the storefront windows, wedding the small and mostly barren flowerbeds –, the small, meaningless tasks. By the time we return to the train station platform the Capitol people will be dropped off at, her banner is dry.

I take a paintbrush and dip it into the only paint MaddiGrace's rage had veered from. Black. It was a colour she detested and a colour that was always safe from her mood swings. In fact, I doubt MaddiGrace would even wear black to a funeral.

My hands move slowly, creating the bold black letters on the multi-coloured backdrop. MaddiGrace stands over me, watching every movement I make, until I set the brush and paint aside and stand to join her. I'm almost proud of my efforts, I realise as I stare down at my carefully painted words. I have excellent penmanship and, apparently, my skills with a paintbrush aren't as lacking as I thought. My words are perfect, flourishing. Almost… almost perfect.

The only thing that stops me being elated by my painting skill is the words that stare up at me, like a slap in the face. Words that are not honest and open, not welcoming and friendly, despite what they say. Because those words might as well sign the death certificates of the two children who will be leaving District 12 tomorrow, with the people from the Capitol.

But as I hang the banner and the black letters begin to drip down, streaking and dragging themselves down with gravity, I smile. Those sliding black letters begin to resemble inky black blood in my mind and I'm almost pleased as I read the words in my mind.

'_We Happily Welcome You to District 12, Home of the Miners!_'


	5. Chapter Three

_Chapter Three_

_' "If I'd only known it would break us,_

_I'd have done anything just to save us…" '_

The Veronicas – _All I Have_.

The Peacekeeper who pricks my finger smiles as I wince, his eyes cold as he orders the next forward. I glare at him and turn, heading blindly toward the penned section of boys my own age. Several of my friends throw me warm smiles, but behind those smiles lurks fear. A deep set fear of change, of uncertainty, and of the Capitol.

My eyes are looking for MaddiGrace before I can stop myself. I'm all but gawking at the girls pens until somebody notices me and heads turns. I don't know whether they think I'm deranged or ill, but somehow, it seems that someone figured out what I was looking for, because MaddiGrace stumbles forward.

She's as pale as a ghost and her eyes are red-rimmed and shadowed. I figure she slept as well as I did last night. There are faint traces of tears on her cheeks and although she looks clean and pretty, her hair brushed until it gleams and her dress as perfect as can be, she looks uncomfortable and hollow and half of the girl I know she is. She throws me a watery smile and looks away from me, toward the first pen of boys where our brothers are.

I follow her gaze as best I can, but it's useless. I can't see the boys without stepping out of my pen and the moment I go to, someone grabs me from behind and forces me away from the rope separating us from the wide path between the girls and boys. I glance over my shoulder, but whoever pulled me back is unwilling to own up and I give in.

Standing here, in this roped off pen, I feel suddenly like an animal. Like an animal preparing to be slaughtered. My eyes widen as I realise that it probably the Capitol's intentions and I think briefly of Mr Morton as panic gnaws at my stomach. I can barely breathe as my eyes fall on the large screen set up behind the mostly empty stage.

The podium in the centre has a microphone jutting from it, one of the only new things about the entire stage (apart from the large projector screen). On either side of the podium are large stands, each holding a fishbowl-like circular bowl full of tiny little paper slips. My stomach curls in on itself as I realise that somewhere inside those bowls are Rocky's and Max's names, my name… and MaddiGrace's name.

Hushed whispers and surprised gasps erupted all around me until not even the Peacekeepers knew how to control the sudden influx of noise. I turned my head slowly, searching for what had sparked the sudden disruption of our normally well-behaved District. It didn't take me long to work it out as the small party of Peacekeepers formed a human shield around not only our Mayor, but around a multi-coloured woman who I knew had to be from the Capitol.

As the Mayor and Capitol woman climbed onto the stage, the Peacekeepers created a line in front of it, keeping the odd-looking woman completely safe from any advances from District 12. I doubted anyone would move to hurt her. It wasn't like what was happening was her fault.

I let my eyes examine the woman who looked like she'd fallen off the back end of a rainbow and landed in a half-full pot of gold. Only, I'm certain that the pot of gold probably wasn't gold but small balls of coloured paint that exploded on impact.

What I could see of her natural skin, she was a pale as MaddiGrace, almost translucent. But there wasn't much pale, uncoloured skin on her entire body. She was short and petite, a tiny little thing with long fingers ending in hooked nails that made me think of talons. Her eyes were differently coloured. One was the brightest, most unnatural shade of blue I'd ever seen, the other just as bright and unnatural but a green.

Her lips were outlined in gold and painted purple. Smalls hearts exploded from the corner of her green eye, stars on the right. Her cheeks were highlighted in a deep, mushy yellow that made her look sickly. I wasn't sure what to make of her hair. It was long in parts, falling to her hips, and as straight as an arrow. And then it got short and choppy, framing her face in altering lengths. One side was long than the other and a crooked fringe covered a chunk of her forehead.

It was the most intense shade of deep, royal blue I'd ever seen. Amongst the dead-straight locks were thick, perfect ringlets and crimped pieces that gave it an odd bounce and almost a life of its own. As if her appearance wasn't odd enough, her clothing left me entirely at a loss for words.

She wore a pair of shorts that fit her like a second skin and stopped so high up her thighs I had to wonder how anyone would allow her to wear them. The ends were frayed and despite being a deep grey denim, there were patches of coloured cloth stuck here and there. Her shirt was loose and flowing, covering her breasts but splitting just under them, exposing the entire of her stomach and framing her tiny body.

I doubted she was older than me, but the way she dressed made me wonder. Boots encased her legs to just above her knees, where they met paint-speckled skin. They were the lace up kind and looked expensive, I noted. Everything about her looked expensive. Especially the bracelets clinging to her skinny wrists that varied in both size and colour.

The Capitol girl moved forward slowly, her eyes shining as she came to a stop beside the Mayor in front of the podium. She watched us carefully, her long lashes fluttering against her cheeks. I caught the sparkle on the ends of them and almost smiled. Almost.

"Thank you for welcoming me so warmly to District 12," She began, her accent so thick I almost couldn't understand her. Her voice was soft and gentle, but her tone made me wonder if she was actually pleased to be here. I doubted she was. Here, she was like a fish out of water and I doubted that was a positive feeling. The Mayor looked surprised as she spoke, probably breaking a thousand rules. Cameras rolled and I noticed that someone had set the projector up. Her face, up close, filled the entire screen. "The banner by the station was exceptional. I would like to personally thank whoever made it – I've never seen something so beautiful."

I looked to the side, catching MaddiGrace's eyes. Her brows were hidden in her hairline and I almost laughed. She let them drop slowly and nodded at the girl standing on our stage, her face dark. I lifted my shoulders in a shrug and let my eyes roam back to the Capitol girl.

"I know you're all confused, and I apologise on behalf of the Capitol. You should have been informed as to exactly what was going to occur before today. I find it extremely unfair that you haven't been, and I apologise." The Mayor's face was almost comical, I thought as I looked at him and then at the Peacekeepers. Their faces were a mix. Blank and carefully kept, guarded, a few looked angrily at her. Most seemed surprised. One or two even looked frightened. "The people in charge of the Hunger Games have put together an informative film for you, which we will watch in just a minute."

"Thank you, Katzula." The Mayor said as she took a step back.

For several minutes, the Mayor told us the history of Panem. It was a well-rehearsed speech and the kind that clearly hadn't been written by anyone from our District. It shone and glimmered in favour of the Capitol and once or twice my eyes found Katzula's face as I listened, watching her closely. Every now and then her nose would wrinkle and she'd look disgusted, but her face was quickly schooled into that of perfect serenity.

When the Mayor moved to stand beside Katzula, the film began to play. It was about as dry as the imagery shown during the recap of Panem's history – which had included the smouldering remains of District 13 – and full of different voices telling us what to expect.

We were going to be thrown into some sort of arena where we would be pitted against other children. We were going to have to fight to the death in a sick, twisted form of entertainment. Before that, we were going to be shown around and thrust into the Capitol's faces. They would see us, they would get to know us… and then they would root for us to kill each other until only one was left standing.

I was sick to my stomach when my eyes were able to leave the screen. Katzula climbed to her feet as District 12 began to protest loudly. I heard a mixture of sounds, some broken and others angry. Hollow cries, sobs and panicked screams. Wails. Around me, people were shouting and crying and telling her to go. She looked almost ashamed as she stood in front of the microphone, her posture stiff, her eyes staring sightlessly ahead of her.

It took the Peacekeepers quite an extended bit of time to quiet people. Some were dragged forcefully away, kicking and screaming and even spitting at the men in white. During this whole terrifiying ordeal, I found that I couldn't look away from the girl who stood in front of the microphone. I could see the sheen of tears filming over her eyes; I could see her masked disgust and I knew somewhere deep inside, that it wasn't us she was disgusted by.

She was disgusted by her people.

When order prevailed, Katzula swallowed loudly and took several calming breaths. It was almost as if she was steadying herself, forcing herself to relax. When she had successfully bathed herself into calmness, she plastered a smile on her painted lips and looked out at us. I'm not sure, but I think she caught my eyes as she swallowed loudly. She looked sadder than I'd ever seen anyone look.

"It's time to find out who the _lucky_ tributes of District 12 will be... ladies first…" Her hand moved to the fishbowl on her right and she let her small hand fall into the opening. She withdrew a single slip of paper and I noticed her hand was shaking as she unfolded it and cleared her throat. "_MaddiGrace Moore_!"

My mind went blank. My stomach plummeted to my feet and my heart fell to join it. I no longer cared about Katzula as my head turned and I searched for MaddiGrace amongst the girls. The children of her age fell back, moving away from her as if she had some deadly contagious disease running through her. She stood there, her eyes wide and her face paler than it had been. There was a green tinge to it, I noticed, and through my own horror I heard an earthshattering scream that could only come from her mother.

MaddiGrace didn't move until the Peacekeepers came for her. They weren't gentle as they pulled her from her pen. In a stiff, almost zombie-like state, MaddiGrace allowed them to roughly shove her onto the stage. Katzula hurried to meet her, taking her by the arm and pulling her onto the stage. MaddiGrace stood just behind her, stiff and frozen.

I turned my head in time to watch as a Peacekeeper caught her mother, gently easing the heavily pregnant woman to the ground. Mrs Moore buried her face in her hands and sobbed soundlessly, unable to look up. The Peacekeeper who had helped her stood by her, looking conflicted as he tried to soothe the pregnant woman. My eyes darted to the front again, found MaddiGrace. Tears rolled down her cheeks as she stood there, still frozen, her eyes seeing nothing but her mother's broken form crumpled on the ground at the feet of a Peacekeeper.

"Boys next…" Katzula's voice sounded far away as I stared at MaddiGrace, at my best friend.

I didn't hear a sound as I watched her standing there, so young and childlike. Her misery was so thick and clouded that I almost had to look away, but I couldn't bring myself to. This was going to be the last time I ever saw MaddiGrace in District 12 and no matter how horrible I felt knowing my best friend – the girl I wanted to spend my life with – was going to be sent to her death, I couldn't look away.

There was nothing I could do for her. Not now. Not ever again.

And then someone shoved me forward and everything seemed to blur and speed by me.

"You're up." Someone said as hands pushed me toward the rope barrier.

My legs moved on their own as I headed toward the stage, toward MaddiGrace. She tore from the raised platform and through the Peacekeepers before anyone could stop her. With tears streaming down her cheeks, she threw herself into my arms with enough force to knock me back. Numbly, I wrapped my arms around her and held her tight, burying my face in her hair.

"And there we have it, District 12… your tributes for the very first Hunger Games!" Katzula's voice broke through my numb cocoon and I lifted my head from MaddiGrace's hair, meeting Katzula's eyes.

I held Katzula's gaze as her lips spoke the next words, the words that would mean nothing to MaddiGrace and I, or to our families. We were as good as dead.

"_May the odds be ever in your favour_!"

…

We were placed in separate rooms in the Justice building where we were allowed to say our goodbyes. Friends from school came, people I'd spent my entire life around but never really considered myself to be close to. I think they came mostly to reassure themselves that they were safe, that it was me who was going and not them.

My grandparents came and left, followed by my mother and Julie. Max came by himself, Joseph and Carter with Dad. No one knew what to say to me, no one could even begin to know what the right words would be in a situation like this. I made promises to come back, to survive, but I didn't believe them and I doubted I would be able to keep from breaking them.

It was when my last visitor came, Mr Morton, that I found myself surprised. He sat in a chair beside me, his face blank as he weighed up the words he wanted to say. I waited patiently, trying my best not to let my teacher see how broken I felt inside.

"Don't let them have you, Sam." He finally said, his face cold as he looked up. He moved so that he was sitting opposite me, his eyes holding mine. "They can take everything from you, but they can never fully have you. They can try and tear you down, they can make you a pawn in their games, but if you don't give in, if you don't let yourself even begin to play by their rules, then you can remain you."

"What do you mean?" I murmured, wetting my lips. "If I want to live – if I want to keep MaddiGrace alive – I don't have a choice. _I have to play_ their game; I'm _already playing_ their game."

"Then they've already won." He looked sadder, if that were possible. Mr Morton reached out and took my hand in his. I didn't understand what he was doing until I felt something small and cold in my palm, but he didn't allow me to pull back and examine it. "Hope is a deadly weapon and your best friend all at once. Everything in life has a double edge, Sam."

"Because of the rebels, thousands of children are going to die." I inform him coldly. He doesn't let go of my hand and he doesn't flinch away, like I expected he might. "You know that, I know that. We're all pawns, every one of us. And we always will be. How many have to die to save the world, Mr Morton?"

"Too many." He looked down at our hands. "But you don't, Sam. You can be in there and not lose sight of yourself and what is important. You can come back and still be you, just you. The moment you lose sight of yourself, you may as well die."

"I'm going to die." I laugh, but there's no humour behind it. "I'll do my best to keep MaddiGrace alive, but we're both as good as dead."

"There's always a way out, Sam. No matter how hopeless it seems, no matter how dark there is always a light if you look hard enough for one." He squeezed my hand and climbed to his feet. I lifted my head to look at him, my hand closing around whatever he'd left with me. "Don't give up before you've even tried, and don't lose sight of yourself amongst all of the confusion."

"Where there's a will, there's a way." I bite out, "You don't get it. There is no way, not in this situation. I can't live if she dies, and she can't come home if I live."

"Think back to your paper, Sam." He smiled sadly as he headed for the door. "You might not understand what you did because it was unintentional, and while you understand why I did what I did, I don't think you fully realise just who you are. But you will."

"And who am I?" I call, climbing to my feet.

Mr Morton smiles. "You're just like me, Sam. You have nothing left to lose and everything to gain. But unlike me, you have the chance to save the world as long as you can shoulder the burden and handle the consequences. I know you can, Sam."

"How can you?" I laugh and it sounds hysterical. "And how am I like you? I'm nothing like you."

"Aren't you, Sam?" He opened the door and the Peacekeeper standing behind it nodded to him. "You're just like me, Sam. You'll understand one day, when you need to. Don't give up and don't betray who you are. You can save yourself and MaddiGrace if you just try."

The door shuts behind him before I can reply.

I look down at what he left behind, uncurling my hand slowly to reveal the stunning little stone trinket box. I fall into my seat, cradling the expensive-looking item in both hands. I admire it for quite some time before I finally crack it open, looking into the velvet lined interior. It's hard to imagine anyone in the whole of District 12 could afford something so expensive as the trinket box, but the necklace inside looks even more expensive.

My fingers carefully ease the long silver chain from inside, holding it up in front of my eyes. The links are tiny and clearly handcrafted, each perfect in size and fitting together just right. Hanging from the end of the chain is a locket. It is made to look like it doesn't open, like it is just a pretty shaped pendant, but I know better.

It is shaped like a heart-themed padlock. Someone must have spent years working on it, because the padlock-heart is encased in thorn-like vines ending in blooding roses. These mask the clasp that I find and push open, revealing the interior of the small heart. A small, yellow paper falls from inside the locket and I see a yellowed picture of a woman. A beautiful woman.

My mother…

My heart seems to stop as I stare at my mother's faded photo. The longer I look, the more I take note of small details that are different about her. I tilt my head as I examine the photograph inside the locket, twisting it this way and that. It looks strikingly like my mother, but it isn't. The hair, although in monochrome, is slightly lighter and the eyes are flecked. There's a beauty spot on her right cheekbone.

It's Mr Morton's wife… who looks strikingly like my mother. I frown and close the clasp, slipping the chain over my neck and hiding the locket under my shirt. My fingers find the aged paper and I unfold it carefully, gently.

'What is the point of breathing when you have no desire to live? Find something to fight for, to live for… to die for… and don't ever let it go_._'

I fold the paper and carefully slip it back inside the locket, my mind a whirling mass of questions. Nothing seemed to make sense and the more I tried to figure it out, the more the answers I sought eluded me.

Mr Morton was wrong about me.


	6. Chapter Four

_Chapter Four_

_' "Nobody knows just how it feels today,_

_Nobody sees our hearts break…" '_

Powderfinger – _Nobody Sees_.

We are given a brief tour of the train before it takes off, speeding us toward the Capitol and our deaths. I see MaddiGrace for only a few minutes before she decides to enter her compartment. What she does in there is beyond me, but I find myself exploring the rest of the train absentmindedly as my fingers trace the outline of the locket through my shirt. I'm so consumed with my thoughts that I don't notice Katzula until she clears her throat and touches my shoulder.

"I'm sorry this is happening to you." She speaks so softly I almost think I've misheard her. Instead of replying, I let my hand fall away from where the locket hangs over my heart and let her guide me through the carriages until we reach a dining compartment. I take a seat at the long, expensive looking table and she sits opposite me. "I never imagined the people of my home would ever be so cruel."

"It's funny," I smile but there's no light to it. An Avox (someone who broke the Capitol's laws and now works as a slave for the Capitol as a punishment for their crime) brings us multiple items of food and drinks. Tray after tray, item after item, until more food and drink than I've ever seen sits on the table. The amount of food before me would feed my family and MaddiGrace's for a year. "I'm not really surprised."

"By the Capitol?" She asks.

"Yes. It doesn't surprise me that they'd do something like this." I nod and help myself to what I can only assume it hot chocolate. I sip at it nervously, scalding my tongue despite my attempt at caution. The burning liquid takes most of my tastebuds away, but I still enjoy the thick, chocolaty liquid that warms me from the inside out. "I am surprised that you care."

"Not everyone in the Capitol is as bad as you think." She counters, clearly on the defensive. I watch her take a small slice of steaming bread and butter it lightly. My mouth waters at the smell, but I don't reach for any of the food. Not yet. "Not everyone agrees with how you are treated."

"I don't see anyone objecting." I snort.

"The punishments for us are just as severe as they are for you." She informs me, so gently I almost have to laugh. It's almost like she doubts I can handle what she's saying, but I can. I grew up in a District. I didn't live a padded life of luxury. "The only difference between us and you is the fact that no one us need or understand what it is like to have to fight back. To struggle to survive."

I finally give in as my stomach rumbles so loudly that Katzula laughs. She points out several dishes she thinks I may like and I follow her suggestions. I put a little bit of the things she points out on my plate and try each. She isn't wrong. I do like most of them, except for a mushy soup of green vegetables that is so spicy it kills the last of my tastebuds and I give up on the soup. By the time I finish eating, I'm so full I think I might be sick.

"How old are you?" I finally ask her, my eyes meeting hers.

"Fifteen." She's younger than me, I realise. She bites her lip and looks away from me, her eyes searching the wall to the side of my head. "I guess they thought it fitting that Capitol children would lead District children."

"So, did you guys volunteer for this?" I ask.

"Oh, no." She shakes her head. "We were handpicked from the Gamemaker's families. The people who create the arena, that is, and everything inside it. My father is the head Gamemaker and therefore, I was top of the list. I was sent to District 12 as a punishment for objecting."

"You objected?" I snorted in disbelief and sipped at a milky drink I couldn't taste.

"Oh, yes." She laughed. "I've been declared a troublemaker. Most of my friends call me District, in fact, because I'm considered a lover of underdogs and _those who don't deserve what they have_. I guess they thought that sending me to the worst of the Districts would be enough of a reminder as to why I should behave to keep me in line. Although, I'm certain to be in trouble once my duties with you finish."

"Because of your apology…" It isn't a question.

"Yes." She nods. "Because of that."

MaddiGrace appears and conversation between Katzula and I stops immediately. My best friend is clean and polished, sparkling almost, and I figure she washed up before she came here. Her hair shines and she smells of strawberries and watermelon. I smile at her but she doesn't meet my eyes. I watch at Katzula points out several dishes to MaddiGrace and I'm almost disappointed that MaddiGrace deliberately ignores her suggestion and takes a bowl of the spicy soup that killed my tastebuds.

"Careful." Katzula warns. "It's incredibly hot."

Like the emotion-driven girl she is, MaddiGrace glares at her and takes such a large spoonful of the thick soup I almost wince. Almost. She shoves it between her lips and swallows, spooning more into her mouth before she freezes. Her spoon clatters to the ground and her face burns pink as she reaches for the pitcher of water. She downs a small amount, the rest soaking her as it spills around her mouth.

"That'll teach you." I laugh, watching as she sets the pitcher down and shoves the soup away from herself, scowling. She throws me a dark look and I smile sweetly at her. Katzula smiles and dishes up a bowl of cold, mostly melted ice-cream for MaddiGrace. She sets the bowl down in front of the girl and takes her seat. "Should have tried what she pointed out."

"Capitol lover." MaddiGrace snaps coldly as she shoves the ice-cream away and climbs to her feet. "Are you forgetting why we're here?"

"No." I glower. "No, I'm not. I'm going to die, you're going to die, but that's hardly her fault. She tries to help you navigate this ridiculous amount of food, the least you could have done was stop acting so like a selfish brat and thanked her."

"She is going to sit there and watch us die!" MaddiGrace screams. "She'll probably be enjoying it just as much as the rest of those monsters!"

"Actually," Katzula climbs to her feet, her eyes dangerously cold. "While you're out there, I'm going to be trying to _save_ your lives."

"More like stabbing us in the back." MaddiGrace snarls.

"Think what you want," Katzula's face flashes with hurt and she takes a step back. I glare at MaddiGrace as she crosses her arms over her chest. "But while you're out there, I'll be working my arse off trying to get _you_ sponsored, trying to keep _you_ alive… whether you deserve it or not."

Katzula storms from the room, slamming the sliding door of the compartment shut behind her. MaddiGrace huffs loudly and drops into her seat, looking positively miserable. I'm partially glad, I realise as I watch her suffering.

I climb to my feet and head in the opposite direction, heading for my compartment. I'm partially out the door before I stop and look back, meeting MaddiGrace's eyes. Saddness floods me and I want nothing more than to hug her, hold her, and tell her everything will be okay. But I don't. Instead I hold her eyes for a moment before I look away, my back to her. I linger long enough to say one last thing to her.

"She's on our side, MG."

And then I leave her to suffer alone.

…

I wake in absolute darkness and at first, I hang on the verge of a panic attack as I try to remember what I am, and then it all swarms back like a storm cloud of bees attacking me. I force myself out of bed and I hurry from my compartment. I move through the silent train, feeling like an intruder, until I slip out a door and I'm hit with a gust of air so cold I wrap my arms around myself. My eyes fall on Katzula before she notices me and I almost leave. I'm on the verge of heading back inside when I feel her hand on my bare arm, the cold of her fingers surprising against my sleep-warmed flesh.

She takes my hand and I let her pull me to the back of the train where we lean against the railing and watch the dark world falling behind us. The air is crisp and chilly and I'm almost tempted to go back inside, but Katzula holds tightly to my hand, keeping me in place.

"I can't help her if she won't let me." She informs me, breaking the silence. "And I want to help her. I do."

"I know." I'm not sure what I know, not exactly, but Katzula nods. "MG will come around. She's shaken, that's all. In a day or two, she'll be back to her normal self and you'll just wish she was still moody and didn't like you."

"I doubt it." Katzula laughs and let's go of my hand. She sits by the wall of the train, her back pressed to the cold metal. I join her and she shifts closer to me, shivering in her thin night gown. "It'll be sunrise soon. It's beautiful to watch."

We talk about nothing and everything for a while. The more I get to know Katzula, the more I like her. She's soft and sweet and so careful about everything. She watches her words and takes caution in what she says, far too concerned with hurting me than she is worried about me hurting her. She listens well, better than I'd imagined from someone from the Capitol, and some of the things she says makes me think of Mr Morton. Every now and then she will say something, and no matter how she tries to explain it, I wind up more confused that when I'd started.

As the sun rises, Katzula tells me about the Capitol. How colourful it is, how it never stops moving, how no one knows how beautiful a sunrise really is or what roses smell like. She talks about the things she's seen and knows as if they don't belong to her, as if they are just stories she knows well, but have no meaning to her personally. It's almost confusing, really.

The more I find out about her, the more I like her, and by the time we head inside for breakfast I find myself thinking of her as a friend. Katzula repeats her gentle suggestions as to what we should eat with breakfast for both MaddiGrace and I and this time, despite us both seeing foods we know, MaddiGrace takes her suggestions and tries a bit of everything.

It's clear to us all. MaddiGrace is okay and everything is forgiven. No grudges will be held, no reminders of what occurred will be mentioned and we will continue on as we are now, living together peacefully. Katzula seems content enough with our unspoken agreement, so we fall into a light conversation as we eat. MaddiGrace joins in soon enough and suddenly, it's like the three of us have been friends forever.

"So, what do we have to look forward to when we get there?" MaddiGrace finally asks when no one seems to have anything else to say. While he question is light and seemingly curious, part of me is left wondering whether she really wants to know.

"Well, you'll have several appearances to make." Katzula chews at her lip for a moment as she tries to remember everything she knows we'll have to endure leading up to the games. "There's two or three – the parade when we arrive, interviews… I certainly think you'll enjoy them more than Sam, MaddiGrace. Apart from that, there's training and… lots of food?"

"Brilliant. We'll be too fat to do anything but lie on our backs!" I beam at her and fold my hands over my stomach. I think I've already put on a few kilos in the day it's been since we left 12. "MaddiGrace, stop eating. Right now." I slap the small chocolate she's just picked up from her hands and it lands on her plate. She glares at me, but it doesn't hold for long before she's laughing. "You've gotta stay thin and stuff while the rest of us get fat."

"I don't think it's fair." She declares brightly, poking her tongue out as she snatches up the fallen chocolate and shoves it between her lips before I can stop her. She makes a face as it melts on her tongue, one that isn't entirely a happy one, and I figure she's grabbed a coffee-centred one. "If you guys are all going to be big and fat and lay on your backs like stuck turtles, then why can't I?"

"Someone has to win!" I howl with laughter as she wipes her tongue on the back of a napkin. Katzula watches us with amusement, especially when MaddiGrace snags another chocolate that she really doesn't like. She makes such a scene that I almost topple from my chair, which sets Katzula's well-controlled giggles into full-fledged hysteria. By the time we've calmed down, MaddiGrace looks at us as if nothing at all happened and we are insane. "I think someone needs to tell your mother your etiquette skills are lacking."

MaddiGrace pokes her tongue out again and crosses her arms over her chest, throwing the bowl of multi-flavoured chocolates a disappointed look. I'm not even slightly surprised when Katzula pulls the bowl in front of her and begins sorting them out. Despite knowing her for little more than a day, I think I've got her worked out. She's beyond sweet, and as she places the chocolates in separate piles on the table, she informs MaddiGrace what each is flavoured with.

"Thanks." MaddiGrace grabs three of the piles and shoves them in front of her, successfully demolishing each of them one by one. Katzula watches her with a fond smile as she dumps the rest back into the bowl and offers them to me.

I pick up one and push it into my mouth, closing my eyes. My tastebuds have returned and I'm more than pleased by the mixture of sweet chocolate and earthy coffee that swamps them as I chew the little chocolate. Katzula sets the bowl down and watches the pair of us, looking happier than I've seen her.

Happy suits her, I decide as I eat another chocolate.

…

We gather in a compartment that Katzula calls the viewing room. It's luxurious, like everything else that belong to the Capitol, and we gather around the large screen on what I can only assume are large bags of heaven. They feel like clouds as I sink onto mine, Katzula beside me and MaddiGrace sprawled in front of us on her stomach, her chin nestled in her hands as her elbows sink into the deep, plush carpet.

"We don't have to watch the other reapings…" Katzula murmurs as she switches on the screen. My eyes flicker to her and I shrug. There isn't much else to do and I figure we may as well. The other tributes will be sussing us out. "We can do something else…?"

"It's fine, Kat." MaddiGrace throws over her shoulder. "I'm just looking for the hot boys… and considering Sammy's a boy, we all _know_ what he'll be _looking_ at."

Katzula laughs and once I've thrown a soft cushion at the back of MaddiGrace's head (which, I am proudly willing to declare to the world, makes a hard enough impact that she face plants the plush carpet with a loud squeak), I throw one at her. She catches it, her reflexes surprising, and I almost laugh as she tosses it back at me. Almost. I'm still too in awe of how quickly she snatched the darn thing from the air when she'd been too busily laughing at MaddiGrace's graceful face plant.

"How did you do that?" I whine at her as MaddiGrace picks herself up from the floor and snags a chair just behind us, probably to avoid any more possible headshots from innocent cushions. "Seriously, how?"

Katzula winks. "I have six brothers."

We watch the reapings in silence. The children from District 1 are impressive. The boy is selected from the eighteen year old pen and is about as big as a boulder. He looks incredibly pretty, his skin sun kissed and his eyes gleaming. It looks as if he's never spent a day working in his life by the smooth palms of his hands as he waves and the skin that covers him, but his bulging muscles suggest otherwise.

The girl is taken from the front end, from the twelve year olds, but she's quite tall. She reminds me of a bird of prey – something like a hawk or an eagle. She's poised ready to take off, but her eyes are like stone as she smiles. Not even slightly impressed by everything going on around her, the girl twirls a strand of her hair around her finger.

The two from District 2 are just as impressive. Both of them are between the ages of fifteen and eighteen, both strong and sturdy and deeply tanned. The girl, although small and willowy, had an unearthly look about her that makes me shiver. The boy she stands beside holds his head high, his chin arched upwards. It takes me a moment to realise he's enjoying this, that he's actually _looking down_ on the rest of his District.

Most of the other tributes don't make much of an impression until we reach District 4. The tributes from here are so bronze that look almost like they've rolled in mud. The boy is a year older that MaddiGrace and I, but he doesn't really look it. Muscles explode from his arms, gleaming in the sun. MaddiGrace makes a sound behind me, but I don't turn to look at her. The expression on Katzula's face is enough to inform me what is so special about the boy.

He's attractive.

I wrinkle my nose, finding very little attractive about him. His hair is bleached a light brown, making his vividly ocean-blue eyes all the more noticeable. He smiles and waves, seemingly ever-happy, and both girls near me gush over his people-pleasing skills. I roll my eyes and let my attention fall on the girl who moves to stand closer to him. He drapes an arm over her shoulder and the girl, probably only twelve, looks up at him tearfully. He bestows on her the most charming smile I've ever seen, but it doesn't meet his eyes. Such stunning eyes, but so cold, so emotionless…

I shiver and return my attention to the little girl. She turns and buries her face in his side, using his much larger body to hide from the District and the cameras. Her blonde hair is cut short and choppy, framing her face, and despite the fact that she's healthier than every kid in District 12, she looks too small and fragile to about to fight for her life.

The rest pass by in blurs of faces. Most of them don't stand out, except for a red-headed set of twins reaped from District 9. Before I know it, we've come full circle and I'm watching as MaddiGrace and I are chosen from 12. The horror on MaddiGrace's sends icicle daggers into my heart. What surprises me is how blank and unfeeling I look as I stand there. Even as my mother falls into my father's arms and my grandma and grandpa hold tight to each other, Julie cradled in the arms of a sad neighbour. I hadn't noticed my families reactions…

Katzula's eyes are on my face and before I know it, she's flicked off the screen so we don't have to watch what we lived through. She bites awkwardly at her lip as MaddiGrace excuses herself and she and I are left alone. I continue to stare blankly at the dark screen, frowning deeply at my own reflection. Had I really looked so cold? So unfeeling? Is that why Katzula had met my gaze? Did she think I was willing to do whatever it took to get out?

I look at her and she looks away.

"What did you think when you saw me?" I ask, looking away from her.

I can feel her eyes on my face, evaluating me before she responds. I watch her from the corner of my eye as she wets and lips. "I thought you would turn out to be okay with the thought of killing… even while you were hugging MaddiGrace…." She pauses, looking torn. "I thought you were a monster, Sam…"

I nod.

"I don't know." She adds quickly. I smile sadly and look at her, but she's not looking at me. She's looking down at her hands, as if they are suddenly the most interesting thing in the world. "Now I just feel sorry for you, for MaddiGrace… I know you're in love with her."

"Not that it matters." I sigh. "We're as good as dead."

"Don't say that…" Katzula looks sadder as the seconds tick by, but she doesn't deny it. She knows just as well as I do that MaddiGrace and I have next to no chance of surviving. Before we watched the reapings, we could have fooled ourselves, but now… seeing the boy from 4, the pairs from 1 and 2… it's hopeless. "I'm going to _try_…"

"I know." I throw her a half-hearted smile. "I know you will, Kat, and thanks…"

"I wish I could stop this." She tells me suddenly, her eyes display just how desperately she wishes she could stop it. I reach out and take her hand, squeezing it. It's almost ironic that I'm comforting a girl who is completely safe, knowing it's me and MaddiGrace who should be in need of comfort. But Katzula… I shake my head. "I want to help you… both of you…"

"Then help me make sure MaddiGrace gets home." I climb to my feet and head for the door, suddenly needing fresh air and to be alone. Completely alone. "Make sure she's the one who comes home, Kat. Alive."

I catch the broken, somewhat torn look on her face as I leave her alone, knowing that it is the only thing she'll be able to think about. I feel a tad guilty, but it needed to be said. MaddiGrace is going home, no matter what I have to sacrifice to get her there.

MaddiGrace is going to live. No doubt about it.


	7. Chapter Five - Katzula

_Chapter Five_

_' "I won't be told,_

_What's supposed to be right." '_

Kelly Clarkson – _Catch My Breath_.

The silence of the train was welcoming, Katzula decided as she moved through the darkened corridors toward the one door that would give her a glimpse of freedom. The luxurious hunk of steel left her feeling captured, caged, like she was a prisoner. It looked lovely and expensive, furnished with comfort in mind, and everything was certainly impressive… but it was a cage. A nice, pretty steel cage and she was the bird trapped inside.

Shoving open the sliding door and stepping out into the chill of the evening night, Katzula let her back find the wall, her eyes slipping closed as she counted slowly to ten and back. When she opened her eyes again, Katzula let herself drink in the inky blue-bathed landscape rushing by her. The moon was hidden behind a thick, puffy cloud but there was enough light for her to make out shapes of trees and bushes as the train rushed by.

Her bare feet slid over the metal of the floor until she reached the railing, where she sat slowly, one hand curled around the protective rung above her. Peering through the iron railing was like looking through the bars of a cell, she supposed, but there was something comforting about it regardless. It was probably because of how fast the train was moving and how, should she fall, there would be little chance of survival if her body hit the tracks.

"Kat?"

She stiffened and peered over her shoulder. His face was hidden in the shadows, but she recognised him well enough as he crossed the distance between them and joined her, sitting cross-legged. She bit her lip as she looked away from Sam, unable to bring herself to meet his eyes. There was so much she wanted to say to him, to MaddiGrace, but she could never seem to find the right words.

How could she tell them that she didn't know how to save them? That she didn't even know how to start working out how to save them? How could she apologise to them, for everything her people did, when she was really just as bad as those people she had spent her life with?

"I wish there was something I could do." She murmured, her voice thick. She didn't realise she was crying, not until Sam reached out a hand and wiped the tears from her cheek with the pad of her thumb. She looked at him, holding his eyes. "But there isn't."

"It's okay, Kat."

She looked away, swiping angrily at the tears rolling down her cheeks and dripping off her jawline. She squared her shoulders, forcing herself to take a deep breath and relax. Or get angry. She closed her eyes and concentrated for a few moments, letting her heart pound in her chest as she waited for the waves of anger to wash over her. But they didn't come. Instead, there was nothing but a suffocating sadness that seemed to claim her as itself.

"Is it, really?" She sniffed. "It's my job to _do_ something, Sam. I'm supposed to be trying to make sure both of you make it, so one of you can come home. And yet, I can't come up with a single idea to save _either_ of you."

"You will." He slipped his hand around hers, holding it tightly. "I have faith in you."

"Well, you have faith in the wrong person." She laughed sourly and tugged her hand free from his. Katzula picked herself up slowly, letting both of her hands wrap tightly around the railing as she peered out at the land. "You both should have run away when we stopped for fuel."

"We wouldn't have gotten far, and it isn't us who would be punished." He moved to stand with her, looking like he wanted to comfort her but thinking better of it. "Our families would have been, and we both know you would have gotten into trouble over it."

"If there was some way I could swap places with you – with MaddiGrace, I guess, I couldn't pass for you – I would…" She trailed off, the words sparking an idea deep in her mind. She lifted her eyes to meet Sam's, not even slightly surprised by the confusion that danced over his face as he watched her. "If I could switch places with her, would you… would you fight to get home?"

"Probably." He smiled slightly. "If I knew she was at home right now, there would be no question about it. I want to spend the rest of my life with her." The dreamy look on his face almost made her laugh as she let her gaze fall back to the world they were leaving behind. "But it's impossible."

"You're right." She nodded slowly, but the flame of hope burnt brightly in her chest as she took his hand in hers and dragged him inside.

They moved quietly through the train, heading for the dining car. The table had yet to be prepared for breakfast, yet to be laid with its expensive clothes and plates, the silver cutlery… the plain mahogany gleamed under the dim lighting as they sat, Sam taking the seat opposite her as she leant forward, her elbows on the table. He mimicked her, drawing another smile to her painted lips.

"I'm fight you for them." He declared suddenly.

"Fight me for what?" Katzula tilted her head, ignoring the wave of hair that washed down her side with the movement. As she straightened, she tossed the blue curtain over her shoulder.

"Your thoughts." The teasing tone of his voice made her laugh as she held his gaze, her sadness slowly being replaced by the fire of hope and the flood of warmth she was experiencing as she sat with him. "Not so much a fight, but a arm-wrestle. If I win, you tell me what you're thinking."

"And if I win?" Katzula questioned.

"I'll suck up my pride and ask MaddiGrace to marry me." He offered. "But that won't happen, because you won't win."

"You're on." She grinned and shifted forward, planting her elbow close to the centre of the table, her hand pointed toward the ceiling. Sam placed his hand in hers, gripping gently, as he set himself up. "You're going down, 12."

"Whatever you reckon, Capitol spawn."

Their harmless banter gave way to silence as they wrestled. It took only a few seconds for Katzula to realise that he was going easy on her, to make it look like flattening her arm to the table was a challenge. She let him play his game for a bit longer, putting up as much of a fight as she could, before she stopped trying all together.

The look of surprise on his face as the back of her hand connected with the mahogany sent laughter tipping from her lips like water from a jug as she sat back, feeling smug despite her loss.

"That… you cheated!" He declared, looking slightly miffed.

"And if you had been playing by the rules, it would have been over in seconds." She countered sweetly, pleased that he looked slightly ashamed at being caught out. "So, technically, I don't think I owe you any of my thoughts."

"I suppose you don't," He agreed gently, "But what else are we going to talk about?"

He had her there. Friendships were typically built on similarities, things that two people had in common or shared an interest in. The only thing she and Sam shared was their dislike for the newly founded Hunger Games, Capitol food and… she frowned. There wasn't anything else, not really. How could there be? She was the daughter of a rich and successful Gamemaker, Sam the son of a poor coal miner from District 12 who was being sent to his death.

"How about we talk about those thoughts of yours, anyway?" He prodded gently.

She nodded. "I was trying to come up with an idea for you both to use during your interviews, during the moments that you have to deal with people from the Capitol…"

"You can't consider yourself one of them anymore, Kat." He spoke softly, his eyes firm. "You're so much better than the rest of them… if things could end differently, I'd make you the godmother of the children I'll never have."

She swallowed the lump in her throat. "Like I was saying… you need to start thinking about this more seriously. I know that, without good reason, you'll be with MaddiGrace in the arena and therefore, whatever is yours is hers. In order to maximise our potential of getting the pair of you everything you need, then we need to come up with a game plan."

"My good looks and charm don't do it for you?" He teased, winking. Katzula rolled her eyes and crossed her arms over her chest. "I'm the handsomest boy in 12, how can I _not_ be the most popular tribute?"

"I think that boy from 4 will have stolen your thunder." She snorted. "Now, be serious. I think the most important moment will be when we actually get off the train at the Capitol station. You have got to look your best. I expect you to be friendly, happy. Look like you're excited."

"I am." He rested his chin on the table, lifting a hand a moment later to supply some padding. "I'm being sent to my death. How much more excited can someone's life be?"

"Sam…" She sighed. "I get that it sucks and this is absolute crap to you, but to the… to _my_ _people_…"

"You're not one of them." He sat up again, perfectly straight, his face set and his eyes cold. "You're about as close to being one of them as I am, or are you forgetting the stunt you pulled back home?" He laughed sourly. "If you can't listen to me, how do you expect me to listen to you?"

"Fine!" She glared. "I'll humour you."

"Brilliant." He waved a hand, smiling. "Do go on."

"The Capitol people find this… event… extremely exciting. To them, it's like every Christmas and birthday has come at once. They don't see many District children often, and to see twenty-four at once…" She shook her head. "I don't know what I'm trying to say…"

"It's okay." He chewed at his lip for a moment before sending a hand crashing through his hair, his eyes flickering over her face. "I'm going to be the perfect poster boy you could ever meet, so how do you want me to behave?"

She considered it for a moment, frowning down at her hands as she set them on the table. She watched as her fingers began to follow the lines in the wood, tracing patterns absentmindedly while Sam waited on her, his patience unyielding.

"Like a big brother." She finally looked up, smiling brightly as her eyes fixed on his. He cocked a brow. "You know… protective, sweet, loving. Basically, just be yourself, but… a bit more… if you know what I mean…"

"Sort of…" He scratched his head. "I, uh… didn't expect you to pull the big brother card, though."

"I knew you wouldn't confess your love for MaddiGrace." She shrugged. "But that would have been an excellent card to play." She held up a hand as he opened his mouth to say something. "I understand why you don't want to, believe me. If I were in your shoes, I wouldn't want the Capitol to take that from me, either."

"Thanks." He grinned. "And MaddiGrace? What're you planning for her?"

"The Capitol will love her just as much as you, regardless of whether I came up with a ploy for her or not." Katzula shifted in her seat at the table, forcing her legs under herself on the small chair. It was slightly awkward and a little uncomfortable, but she didn't mind much. "But if she plays on the sweet and innocent, maybe emphasizing the air-headedness a bit…"

"I wouldn't recommend calling her an air-head to her face." Sam laughed, the sound so joyous it brought a loose smile to Katzula's lips as she listened to it. She felt herself relaxing, felt herself enjoying the moment, even if they were talking about how to keep him and his best-friend alive. "But it sounds airtight."

"The plan, or her head?" Katzula teased.

"Both." He chuckled. "So, I'm basically the big brother to the sweet and sometimes a little daft girl from my District. Got it."

"Yes." She nodded. "That's about it, I guess. I mean, of course you can put your best-friend status out there, but I think the Capitol will take to your brotherly concern of her better than just being best-friends. Of course, both together should be explosive enough for them to want to sponsor you."

"You don't seem worried about MaddiGrace getting sponsored…" He murmured.

"I'm not. Your goal is to keep her alive and to do that, you need to stay alive. If I concentrate on keeping _you_ alive, then it makes it easier for _you_ to keep her alive." Katzula drew her finger over a particularly dark line in the wood, wetting her lips almost nervously. "Of course, I will do my hardest to have you both rolling in sponsors, but my main goal is you. I know that anything you get with benefit MaddiGrace, so it seems worthwhile that I spend more of my efforts on you."

"I'd rather you just worried about her, honestly." Sam's eyes softened slightly as he spoke, his words gentle. "But I understand, and I guess it's pretty logical. You know, Mr Morton would adore you. You might have even taken my spot as teacher's pet."

"I've never heard a guy admit to being a teacher's favourite," Katzula teased, almost glowing with the sudden sheen of pride she felt. It seemed odd to be so happy when she knew Sam would be dead by the end of the adventure and she would, hopefully, be helping a probably broken and shattered MaddiGrace home. "It's refreshing."

"I might as well start confession now," Sam chuckled. "You'd like him, Mr Morton, I mean. He's just as rebellious as you. Well, not quite as publically defiant, I suppose… actually, there's something I want to give you… can you wait here?"

Katzula nodded and watched as he sprung to his feet, taking off from the dining car like he was being chased by Lucifer's hellhounds. She smiled to herself as she reran their conversation over in her mind, trying to find a flaw with the plan she'd put before him. She almost missed the Avox girl who appeared to set the table.

"I'm sorry." She apologised, watching the blonde-headed girl begin laying the table cloth. She pushed back her chair and rose to help, freezing only when the girl shook her head furiously as cast a nervous glance over her shoulder, toward the kitchen. "I'll…" Katzula bit her lip and stood back as the girl finished her task. "Thank you…"

By the time Sam stumbled back into the room, the blonde-headed Avox girl had finished setting the table and even brought out a pot of coffee, two cups, and some delicious looking pastries. Katzula sat where he'd left her, sipping at the dark liquid in her cup, and he joined her quickly.

"I always thought you were supposed to give gifts to the girls you liked." She teased as she watched him playing with the small trinket box. Sam threw her a funny look as he ran his hands over it before he reached out, waiting until she'd held out her hand. "What is it?"

"Open it."

She did, withdrawing the most beautiful necklace she'd ever seen. Sam was silent as she examined it, even finding the clasp that opened the locket. She twisted it this way and that, watching the light sparkling off the silver chain as she withdrew the small slip of paper. She read it silently first, and then aloud.

"_What is the point of breathing when you have no desire to live? Find something to fight for, to live for… to die for… and don't ever let it go…_" She murmured, lifting her eyes to Sam's. He smiled faintly as she replaced the piece of folded parchment inside the locket and snapped it closed. "Is that your mother? She's beautiful."

"No… that locket belonged to Mr Morton, it's his wife." Sam smiled softly. "But she does look a lot like my mother, an extremely big lot like my mother, but she isn't." He brushed his fringe back from his face. "I guess she must have been related to Mum, but Mum never said she had any siblings…"

"You should keep this, Sam." Katzula held out her hand, letting the locket dangle between her fingers. "This belongs with you, not me."

He took it slowly and climbed to his feet, moving until he stood beside her. She froze as she felt his hands brushing her hair away from her neck, watched his hands as they moved to open the clasp of the chain. He slipped the halves of the chain around either side of her neck and clasped them back together, his hands lingering for a moment.

"Sam…" Katzula glanced up at him. "This should…"

"You're a rebel, Kat, just like Mr Morton and his wife." He drew back and moved back to his spot, reaching forward to pour himself some coffee. Unlike MaddiGrace, he had thoroughly enjoyed the strong and almost bitter, earthy taste of the brew. Every morning, he made certain he had a cup, even if he did couple it with three sugars and milk, unlike Katzula who didn't bother with anything but the coffee and hot water. "Mr Morton trusted me with it, gave it to me, therefore I think it is up to me to decide where it should be."

"It should be with you, in the arena." Katzula argued.

"No." He sipped his drink, his eyes carefully guarded. "It's too important to go in there, where it'll get broken and lost. I want you to keep it. I want everyone to see it, to admire it, to fall in love with it without knowing that it is basically a pretty token of rebellion."

"You sound like you almost _want_ to be a rebel." Katzula murmured.

"I have the rebels to thank for the mess I'm in now," He smiled sourly. "So I'm not particularly fond of them."

"I doubt there would have been a rebellion if they had've thought this would be a consequence of their actions. They fought because they wanted a better tomorrow for their children and their grandchildren." Katzula took a large mouthful of her coffee and swallowed. "The Capitol is the only one to blame for what is happening."

"I suppose." He seemed to consider it for a while as they sat there, drinking their coffees in silence for some time. By the time the sun began to rise and the Avox girl returned, several others with her, and began to set up the table for breakfast, Katzula was almost certain he had no intention to pick up on any topic of conversation. But she was wrong. "So, should we go back to planning or should we discuss what the heck is gonna happen when we get to the Capitol?"

"That depends," Katzula laughed softly. "What do _you_ want to talk about?"

"I think we should probably wait until MaddiGrace makes an appearance before we plan any more. So," He cleared his throat. "What's going to happen when we get there?"

"We'll get there just after lunch," Katzula scratched her head, thinking. "And then you'll be whisked away to the people in charge of preparing you for tonight's parade. You and MaddiGrace will be separated, of course, as you'll have separate prep-teams… they'll get you ready for your stylists, who will make the finishing touches to your costumes before you go for a chariot ride through the main street of the Capitol, where you'll stop outside the President's mansion before going back. It's so everyone can have a good look at you both. Well, all twenty-four of you…"

"I'm almost scared…" He joked. "What should I expect from my prep-team…?"

"Oh," Katzula shrugged. "It's not a big deal, really… they'll just rip every hair from your body… scrub you raw… make you all pretty and shiny and sparkly new… you'll even get a manicure and pedicure."

"Oh, great." He pouted. "I'm going to become a _woman_."

"No," She laughed. "Just a sideshow freak."

"Which is just as bad." He poked his tongue out and snagged a pastry from the small plate by the coffee. Katzula refilled her coffee cup, holding it in both hands, and watched him devour the pastry. "I like my hair. It's manly. It's a sign of manhood. I want to keep my manly-ness."

Katzula laughed, lifting one hand to play with the locket. She stroked the silver, felt the cool metal beneath her fingertips before she tucked it under her night-shirt, out of sight. Her hand hovered over it for a moment before she let her eyes drop to her coffee.

"It will be okay, Kat." Sam murmured gently. "You'll see."

"Will it?" She met his gaze.

"Sure." He grinned. "You'll see. I'm gonna ace this and you'll be turning sponsors _away_."

Katzula laughed despite the sudden tugging at her heart. She felt oddly broken as she watched him select another pastry, his mouth seemingly watering as he savoured every bite, even closing his eyes to better enjoy the taste. She dragged her knees to her chest as she shifted in her seat, making herself as small as possible as she sipped at her drink.

In another world, she almost believed she could have fallen head over heels with the boy from District 12… but this wasn't another world. This was here and now. And the boy from District 12 was in love with another girl…

And he was going to _die_.


	8. Chapter Six

_Chapter Six_

_' "Doesn't it feel,_

_Like our time is running out?" '_

Fall Out Boy – _The Phoenix_.

My heart pounds so hard in my chest as the day falls away from us, leaving me almost numb with worry. I barely taste the food I put in my mouth, barely notice how hot the shower is as I prepare for the arrival at the station. I'm not sure how I managed to convince MaddiGrace that Katzula should pick what we wear to arrive in, but I manage to and soon we're both standing near the windows, staring out at the rocky cliffs that surround us on both sides. In an hour, we'll be slipping into a tunnel and then…

I shake my head and turn away from the window, my eyes meeting Katzula as she stands back, arms crossed over her chest. She looks worried for us, maybe even a little scared. I guess spending three days with us has been enough to earn her feelings, which was never my intention. I had never intended to become her friend or for her to like us, but it happened and we'll all face the consequences of it eventually.

"Nervous?" She teases me, her eyes surprisingly distant.

"Of course not!" I tease back. She gives me a disbelieving look and I make an effort to smooth the wrinkles from the oddly bright shirt she picked out. It's blue, but it isn't just a single shade. Every time I move, every time a shadow falls or the light catches it, it adjusts to a different shade. It's oddly captivating. "Just thinking about how much I'm going to enjoy having my hairs ripped out."

"One by one," She winks, which catches MaddiGrace's attention. I almost forgot that she hadn't been present when Katzula and I were discussing what would happen when we got to the Capitol. I grin at the horrified look on her face. Katzula looks disappointed as she turns to MaddiGrace. "Not really one by one…" She assures my friend. "It'll be quick and… mostly painless."

"Are they… everywhere?" She whispers, and Katzula confirms it with a single nod. I almost feel sorry for MaddiGrace as her cheeks turn bright pink and she takes a step toward me. She turns her back on us and stares out the window, her small body shivering despite how warm the day is turning out to be.

She looks innocent, I decide as I look at her. Katzula had picked out a simple dress for her. Pure white, billowing, falling just below her knees. She even managed to touch MaddiGrace's hair, twisting several strands into a complicated plait that circled her head and formed almost a midnight halo. I swallowed as I examined my best-friend, marvelling at just how pretty she looked, just how pure and innocent she appeared as she looked out the window, a mixture of pent up excitement and fear.

The overhead lights snap off as we hit the tunnel and darkness swallows the three of us. MaddiGrace actually screams and sidesteps into me. I catch her, holding her tightly as the train lurches through the gloom. Katzula informs us quietly, unhappily, that we're on the homeward stretch and sure enough, light floods us so quickly and so intensely I'm blinded.

But I'm not deaf. I hear the screaming before my eyesight returns and when it does, I almost wish it hadn't.

Thousands of screaming Capitol citizens are trying to move forward, to get closer to the train as a wall of Peacekeepers forces them back. Katzula squares her shoulders and leads us from the train as I do my best to keep from panicking.

I drape my arm around MaddiGrace's shoulder and then decide better off it. I take her hand instead and force her to walk partially behind me, shielding her from the crowd with my larger body. She willingly goes with it, too overwhelmed to fight me, and I guide her from the train. Katzula's strides and long and quick, her chin held high as she navigates the screaming citizens and ignores the flashing cameras shoved at her, and then us.

She leads us straight to a waiting black box with wheels and, as I watch, a man jumps out and shoves open a door I hadn't noticed. She climbs inside and I push MaddiGrace in ahead of me – if this big brother routine isn't noticed, I think I'll cry – before I climb in after her. The man shuts the door and the black box lurches forward, cutting a path through the crazed citizens.

There's too much to look at and everything is so brightly coloured it almost hurts to look at, so soon I find myself staring at my hands instead of out the windows. MaddiGrace, however, clambered over me in order to peer out the window, her face pressed to the glass as she gaped at the rainbow that was the Capitol.

"Where're we going?" I throw at Katzula, feeling suddenly quite worried.

"The Training Centre, your new home." She smiles, but it doesn't meet her eyes. "We have an entire floor to ourselves, so you don't have to worry about being with the other tributes, except during training. I'll be there when you guys get back from the parade."

"You're not coming?" MaddiGrace looks over her shoulder, appearing hurt.

"There's some things I want… _need_… to do, but I will watch the parade on the television tonight, before you both get back... listen to your stylists, both of you."

Peacekeepers take us to wherever it is we need to be as Katzula deserts us. I'm surprised to find myself feeling betrayed as I wait on some sort of bed-couch thing, stripped completely of my clothes. My prep-team (three odd looking women, one of whom looks like a human snake complete with scales and a forked tongue) dump hot, sticky stuff all over my body and then slap strips of god-knows what on top of the sticky gunk. They rub these for a moment and then tear them away, pulling skin and every strand of hair out of my body.

When they finish attacking me with the sticky stuff, they rub oils all over my red and blotchy flesh and then take tweezers to the hairs they missed. It seems to take forever as they violate me, making me feel less than human. They talk to themselves, but I don't listen as I close my eyes, repeating what Katzula had asked of us.

'_Listen to your stylists…_'

It's hard to do the longer the three oddballs work on me. My skin feels like someone has dunked me in a pot of boiling water and then tried to peel it off with a spoon. It hurts like nothing else, but I keep my lips clamped shut and force myself to think about anything else.

The finish with the tweezers and begin working on my nails. Every now and then I hear them make disgusted comments about how I look and keep myself (they were surprised and impressed by how I was dressed and I didn't feel the need to inform them that Katzula picked the outfit). By the time they're done with me, I have perfect toenails and fingernails, my skin is smooth and blemish free (and hair free, damnnit) and I… I sparkle. Literally.

The three leave and I'm glad, so happy that I actually don't care now that I'm butt-naked and sitting in an odd looking room, or that I'm covered in glitter and makeup and smell like a perfume shop. I'm ecstatic that their torture is over… at least, until _he_ walks in.

He makes me think of a rabbit. He is so small, so fidgety and frightened looking that I almost pity him. He doesn't look as weird as everyone else – plain clothes, natural olive skin tone and brown eyes – save for the unusual cut of his hair and the rings that adorn his lips, his ears, his nose. He helps me down from the bed-couch and circles me, brown eyes drinking me in.

"When you've finished admiring my handsome body," I begin as calmly as I can, trying to channel Katzula. If she isn't a source of calm and levelheadedness, an inspiration to all, I'm sure, I don't know who is… "I wouldn't mind getting some clothes…"

"Mm-hm." He murmurs non-committedly. He stops in front of me and I finally cross my arms over my chest, almost ready to crack it with the odd little man who looks like he'd rather be out nibbling on grass, or adding more metal to his face. "Put your robe on, then we'll talk."

I glare at him and snatch the robe from the wall, dragging it over my body. I tie it tight, glad to be covered, and take a seat in front of a large mirror. The man, whose name I still don't know, continued to watch me and I'm no longer reminded of a rabbit. More like a viper preparing to strike.

"My name is Caine." He finally informs me, "I'm a friend of Katzula's… and your stylist."

"Great," I sigh. "Let her know, then, that I'm extremely disappointed that she isn't being tortured. I certainly hope whatever she ditched us for was bloody well worth it."

"You can work that out for yourself later." He informs me and leaves the room for the briefest of moments. When he returns, he is holding a gigantic garment bag that he hangs on a rail not far from me. He unzips it and I let my jaw fall open. "She warned me you might be difficult."

"I am not wearing _that_!" I exclaim, bounding to my feet. "_What_ the hell _is it_?"

He pushes the garment bag away from the odd-looking creation and soon, the war as to whether I'm wearing his insane costume or not begins. At the end of it, I'm grudgingly forced into the costume. It was that, or go naked. I figured I'd rather look a complete full than show up in my birthday suit.

I have no intention of ever letting the entire Capitol see _all_ of me.

When Caine finishes touching up what his prep-team started, I finally get a good look at myself. I don't really recognise the man standing in front of me, reflected in the shiny silver surface of the mirror.

My skin has been coated black with some sort of shiny substance. I think they actually used chunks of coal and then flicked glitter on me, but either way, there isn't a single inch of my skin showing under the black stuff they rubbed over me. I'm wearing some thin body suit that only really covers my torso and to the middle of my thighs. It sparkles, just like my skin, and I'm slightly surprised. My eyes roam over me, over the large contraption encasing me. It's a rusty-looking _cage_.

_The kind you'd keep a bird in,_ I think as I tilt my head this way and that, turning my body so the cage follows my every movement. It extends a far way out on one side, enough to fit another body inside, and I'm almost ready to ask why, but I don't. I simply stare at myself instead.

"Lift your feet." Caine orders and I do. He helps me into the best and most comfortable boots I've ever put my feet in and then disappears. When he returns, he partially drapes a rough, scratchy looking material over part of the cage and I cock a brow at myself in the mirror as he arranges it. "You'll understand soon enough."

"I don't think I'll ever understand you Capitol people." I tell him, "Not even Kat _could make this make sense_."

"You seem quite fond of her." He comments as he leads me out of the room and down into an underground section where the other tributes wait. Not that many are here yet, I notice.

"She's okay." I shrug. "She's not what I imagined would come from the Capitol."

He doesn't say anything and instead we stand by and watch as the other Districts arrive.

District 1 are breath-taking. The boy is dressed in a long, flowing robe that makes him look regal. A crown sits on his head, embedded with jewels. He holds some sort of gold stick, also embedded with jewels, and my mind helpfully supplies the idea of a king from some fairy-tale. It seems fitting, especially when his female counterpart arrives, dressed in a gown that is easily bigger and heavier than her, a crown also nestled atop her curled hair.

District 2 look impressive, in a cold and vicious sort of way. They stand stiffly away from the rest of us, their eyes searching the pool of tributes. From head to foot they'd been made to look like they're wearing armour made from stone, evening holding nasty looking weapons.

The pair from 3 flash mutli-coloured, wires wrapping around their bodies and jutting out here and there. It almost looks like they've been electrocuted as their hair stands wildly on end. The girl from 4 is made to look like a mermaid, so barely covered she looks almost naked, despite the big green tail that starts just below her hips and wraps her legs so tightly I'm surprised she can walk. The boy from her District is holding a fishing pole and wearing nothing but a pair of skin-fitting undershorts.

I almost groan aloud as I recognise him. It's the boy both Katzula and MaddiGrace found drool-worthy. I roll my eyes and search for District 5. I don't know what to think of them, or of 6, but District 7 look like trees. Trees with big axes buried in their stomachs.

The tributes from 8 are wrapped in material, the ones from 9 covered in grain. I shake my head, trying to work out just what is so ingenious about their getup. I spot District 11 next and I have no idea what to make of them and while I'm trying to puzzle it out, my attention is caught by the pair from 10. They look like… animals. Dirt has been rubbed into their skin and they're draped with animal skins, complete animal skins. Heads, feet… I shudder and look away.

"Excuse me, I'm looking for my moronic best-friend…"

I turn at the voice, moving to hug MaddiGrace as she grins at me. I stop myself before I can shove the cage around me into her, and then my eyes finally realise what they're seeing. She's covered in an extremely short yellow dress that is made out of tiny, fluffy feathers. Her stylist even painted her skin yellow and stuck feathers to it here and there. Her feet and most of her legs are bare, orange, and I almost gape at how long they seem.

She flaps her arms and then tilts her head to the side and I finally understand. I let myself drink her in for a little longer, marvelling at the fact that she actually has a _beak_ covering her mouth and nose.

"You're a canary."

"Yes." She giggles. "I actually kind of like it."

It's weird watching her beak open and close every time she speaks. I throw a look at Caine and he smiles knowingly. As childish as it seems, I poke my tongue out at him and return my attention to my bright-yellow best-friend.

"Seems fitting. Caged canary."

"Huh?" She frowns.

"MaddiGrace, I'm not dressed like a human _bird cage_ for nothing." I inform her, speaking slowly. She blinks at me. "Air-head."

The chariot with our District number painted on the side, guided by large black horses, pulls up in front of us before she can reply. MaddiGrace strokes the horses, almost bouncing as she touches the big beasts, and then Caine appears and interrupts her.

"You get in first," He orders me, helping me up into the chariot. I glare at him as he pulls MaddiGrace to the other side, moving her rather roughly. He reaches up and unlatches the cage around me, ushering her in, and MaddiGrace's face deadpans as she finally clicks on. I hold out my hand and help her into both the chariot and my cage, smiling faintly as Caine shuts the cage behind her. "Smile, both of you. Look friendly. Wave."

"Kat does a better job at the coaching than you." MaddiGrace tells him as she holds tightly to my hand, her fingers entwined with mine. "_Why_ isn't she here?"

"Right now, all you two need to worry about is looking good and winning over the Capitol." He shouts as the chariots begin pulling away, District 1 in the lead and the others falling in behind them, in perfect order. "Look happy!"

I plastered my best smile on and squeezed MaddiGrace's hand tightly. She squeezed back, unable to smile due to the beak obscuring her face. Something flashed behind us and MaddiGrace opened her mouth to say something, or scream maybe… but instead of her voice, instead of words…

The singing of a canary filled my ears, extremely loud. The moment she closed her mouth, the bird song stopped. She tilted her head, curious, and opened and closed her mouth several times. Each time she opened it, the sound of a canary filled the air around us, surprisingly loud. When she closed it, the sound stopped.

"You really _are_ a canary!" I snorted.

Her eyes were sparkling as she opened her beak. The longer she kept it open, the louder the sound of the canary song got. It was loud enough to turn heads our way, even the other tributes looked back at us. MaddiGrace let go of my hand and flapped her arms, giving the impression of a fluttering canary. She twisted and turned, spinning in tight circles, dancing on the small space she had.

When she was too dizzy to continue, she took my hand again and held tightly to it. We were getting closer and closer to the President's manor and, as if she knew that the best time to make an impression was now, MaddiGrace opened her mouth and truly let herself shine.

MaddiGrace sung for the people of the Capitol.

…

Peacekeepers guide MaddiGrace and I back to the building where we will stay with the rest of the tributes. Each District is allocated their own floor, with District 12 taking the very top of the massive building. By the time the heavy metal doors trapping us inside the climbing box spring open, I've managed to shed my cage and stand in just the bodysuit. MaddiGrace darts out first, singing with her canary beak spread wide.

"You both did excellently."

I barely recognise the girl who stands in front of us, but I know her voice regardless of how she looks. Apart from the oddly comforting sound of her voice, the only thing I can recognise about her are her eyes. One green, the other blue.

"Kat?" Her name leaves me lips, my voice catching. MaddiGrace stands just in front of me, head cocked to the side. Her canary song is snapped off sharply as she lifts her jaw from the floor, letting the silence encase us all. "Is that… Kat, what happened to you?"

The previously painted Capitol girl bites her lip nervously, her eyes flickering briefly to MaddiGrace before they meet mine. I blink stupidly back at her as she wraps her arms around her stomach, hugging herself as insecurity fills her. "Don't you like it?"

"You look different." MaddiGrace informs her, as if she isn't even aware of this. "But you look really pretty, Kat."

_She does_, I realise as I let my gaze move over her. Katzula no longer looks like a Capitol citizen, like one of their multi-coloured inhabitants. She looks almost as if she could have come from a District… except for the healthy quality of her hair, her skin, the fact that she's never seen a day of hard work or going without food.

Gorgeous blonde waves tumble to a neat, clean cut to just below her shoulders, shining softly under the gentle lights over our heads. Her pale skin is like the buttermilk soaps we used on the train, flawless and unblemished. She flushes slightly under our inspecting gazes and I search for something, anything, that will peg her as a Capitol girl.

But there _is_ _nothing_.

Not even her clothes really peg her as a Capitol girl. They're plain, boring and bleak. Lifeless.

_'You can work that out for yourself…'_ Caine's voice fills my mind and I briefly think back to our conversation. Was this really worth her ditching us? Really? She wanted a makeover, so she left us to fend for ourselves…

"You look gorgeous." MaddiGrace plants a soft kiss on Katzula's cheek and then springs for the three stairs just behind our Capitol friend, hesitating at the top of the landing. "Which room is mine? I want a shower and… I'm so tired I would kill for somewhere to curl up…"

"Take your pick." Katzula smiles over her shoulder and MaddiGrace takes off, bounding into the door directly ahead of the stairs. Katzula approaches the heavy mahogany table between us, laid to overflowing with various foods and beverages, and takes a seat. "Sam?"

"You ditched me – us – to get a _makeover_." I'm surprised with how cold my voice comes out as I cross to join her at the table. Katzula bites her lip as I drop opposite her. "Why? Trying to slum it?"

"That's not it at all!" Katzula looks hurt as she busies herself pouring a cup of coffee. She lifts her eyes to meet mine when she's done and I almost look away. The pain behind the differently coloured orbs is like a slap in the face. It stings more than I thought it would. "You know me better than that."

"I thought I did…"

"You do." Her voice is cold, empty. I cock a brow and wait. "Sam, I did this as a… I…" She huffs out a frustrated breath of air and takes a sip from her drink. "It's wrong what the Capitol is doing and I don't want any part of it, not now and not ever, but I don't have a choice… so getting out of their foolish opinion of fashion seemed as good a rebellion as any."

"Couldn't that have waited?" I query softly.

"No, not really, because I also have a way to keep MaddiGrace safe…" She bites her lip. "But it's double-edged…"

I snort. "Isn't everything?"

She nods. "I guess you want to know?"

"Of course." I shift forward, feeling a flash of hope spark deep inside of me. If Katzula has come up with a way to keep MaddiGrace alive, safe, completely unharmed, then there's no doubt in my mind. I _have_ to hear it. "What've you got in mind?"

"It's not set in stone, but… there may be a way to keep her out of the arena entirely."

I think my face has lit up. My heart most definitely stopped. I'm not sure how, but I managed to suck in a shallow lungful of air as I waited, on the verge of exploding with joy. Not even the torn look on Katzula's face could crush my sudden excitement. If she could pull this off, then_ I still had a chance_… I could _win _the Games, I could go _home_… I could _marry _MaddiGrace.

"But you can never see her again."


	9. Chapter Seven

_Chapter Seven_

_' "It's just my humble opinion,_

_But it's one that I believe in…" '_

Paramore – _Break It Off_.

_'But you can never see her again…'_

The words roll in the air around my head, circling over and over again as I stare at Katzula. She is avoiding my eyes, looking anywhere else but at me. I find that I don't really care as I let those words repeat over and over in my mind, until the only thing I can hear is her voice.

"Sam?" Katzula's face is a becon of worry as she reaches across the table and picks up one of my coal-black hands. Part of the dusty substances rubs off on her skin, but it goes unnoticed by her as she squeezes my hand, waiting to see what I'm going to do. "Sam, isn't it… isn't it _better_ this way? _Neither_ of you have to die."

"I don't want to live without her," I look up slowly. Katzula nods and sits back, pulling her hand from mine. I don't stop her, don't even try to comfort her as she hugs her knees to her chest and looks defeated. "But… I guess it's better than nothing." I do my best to sound thankful, but it doesn't seem to work well. "I appreciate it, if you can keep her safe, Kat. Really."

"Sam, stop and think for a minute." Katzula drops her knees, lets her feet hit the floor under the table. She straightens up and squares her small shoulders, her chin slightly lifted. I frowned slightly and adjusted myself, preparing for… I wasn't sure. "If you die, or give up, then what will become of your family, of MaddiGrace's? You want me to save her, and I think I can, but I think I can also save you… _but I can't help your families_."

The thought hits me hard and I slump back, my eyes widening. My family. In all of this, I hadn't even stopped to think about them, I hadn't even given them a single thought in my fixation with getting MaddiGrace out alive. But just because she got out alive, who's to say she'd be able to look after both of our families? Even now, that would be a harsh burden I'm not sure she could carry.

"Sam…?"

"How can you keep MaddiGrace out of the arena, Kat?" I ask calmly, sitting forward, my jaw set. "Because if you can, then it doesn't matter if I never see her again… she's alive. If you can keep her alive, safe, then I'll… I'll do my best."

"Let me make the arrangements and then we'll talk about it again." Katzula smiles brightly at me. "You should try and get some sleep, Sam. You've got a big day ahead of you."

"Really? What's planned for tomorrow?" I want to press her for details, but I know it's pointless. Katzula won't tell me anything until she's gotten it worked out and set in stone. So, instead, I opt for the only other option.

"You start in the training rooms tomorrow." She shrugs. "You get to learn how to use different weapons and stuff while the Gamemakers watch you. It'll go toward your score when you perform for them privately before the Games and the final interview."

"Just another hoop to jump through." I grin sarcastically. "I don't think I'll be able to sleep, Kat."

"You need to try," She combs a hand through her blonde hair and I watch as it slides back into place, looking almost as perfect, almost undisturbed. It makes me think of MaddiGrace, the way she seems to always look as perfect as can be. Impeccable. "Or you might just kill yourself playing with the heavy equipment."

I laugh brightly and she almost joins in. I catch the cheerful smile tugging at her lips as she swallows a mouthful of her coffee, her eyes glittering. "Alright, alright. I'll go to bed, Mother, but I cannot promise I'll go to sleep."

"I'll be in to tuck you in in five minutes." She teases.

I wink in return as I bound to my feet and head for the stairs. "I might need a story of two to help me fall asleep, too."

"We'll see." She laughs. "Night, Sam."

…

Morning came faster than expected. It also brought one of the rudest awakenings of my life as MaddiGrace hauled the blankets from my nearly-naked body and insisted on screaming at the sight of my exposed skin. It brought Katzula rushing into my room in response to MaddiGrace's exceptionally girly and high-pitched scream.

Red faced, I forced myself upright and glared at the two girls who stood near me. Katzula was smothering her laughter behind her hands while MaddiGrace simply held my blankets up, obscuring my view of her.

"When you're done," I hiss at them, my cheeks so hot I almost wondered if they'd melt from my face. "Do you think you could get out? I'd like to get dressed."

MaddiGrace threw the blankets over me and darted for the door, ducking swiftly behind Katzula. Sober-faced, her jaw set, Katzula cocked an eyebrow as she caught MaddiGrace, stumbling slightly as my best-friend wrapped both her arms around the other girl's shoulders.

"Sammy," MaddiGrace called from the door. "You can wake yourself up tomorrow."

"No one asked you to wake me up." I huff, wrapping the blankets tighter around myself.

MaddiGrace contemplates this for a moment before she sticks out her tongue. "If I didn't, you'd miss breakfast and then you'd complain all day about how starving you are and how I should have gotten you out of bed and how I'm such a horrible friend…"

"We don't need to worry about me killing myself," I throw at Katzula as I grab the pillow behind me, tossing it as best I can at MaddiGrace. She squeals and ducks down behind Katzula. Without batting an eye, Katzula catches the pillow and tosses it back to me, a smile playing on her lips. "I'm going to kill her instead."

"Hey!" MaddiGrace exclaims as she peers over Katzula's shoulder. "That's a horrible thing to say, Sammy!"

"Get out." I order. "Now."

When they'd disappeared, closing the door behind them, I bounded to my feet and explored the obnoxiously large room. This room was big enough to fit my house and MaddiGrace's inside, and that was without the addition of the added on bathroom and walk-in wardrobe that I scoured through to find a pair of trousers and a shirt.

There were three or four different sets of the plain trousers and shirt I pulled out, so I figured it was some kind of uniform or expected attire for training. Either way, I could move effortlessly in what I picked out and I was comfortable. And to me, these seemed to be the most important things with the little knowledge I had of today.

I headed down to breakfast with a forced smile, only to feel it slip away the moment I noticed MaddiGrace wasn't sitting with Katzula at the food-filled table. I dropped into the seat beside Katzula and poured myself a coffee while she made certain to pile my plate with fresh fruit.

"I had to convince MaddiGrace to get changed." She informs me as I sip my drink and nibble on the end of a strawberry, enjoying the sweet explosion on my tongue. I frown slightly as I look at her. "She was wearing a skirt."

"Sounds like MG." I chuckle as I pick at some of the other fruits. I'm not particularly fond of the watermelon – it has too subtle a flavour – but I enjoy the raspberries, the oranges and kiwi fruits that are cut into pretty flower shapes. I almost feel guilty as I eat them, wondering how long it took get them looking so much like art. "Do you know any more about…?"

"Are you happy now!?" MaddiGrace huffs as she stands at the end of the table, her arms crossed over her chest. She does her best to look angry and intimidated, but the moment she meets Katzula's amused expression, she cracks a grin and slumps into a seat. "I don't want to be in the same thing Sam's wearing. I'm a _girl_."

"Would you like every boy to see your underwear when you climb the climbing wall, or scale a rope?" Katzula quizzes her teasingly.

"You are so dull for a Capitol girl." MaddiGrace declares in a huff.

For the next twenty or so minutes, the banter between MaddiGrace and Katzula stirs up a steady flow of amusement that keeps my mind from dwelling on my conversation with Katzula or the fact that I'm nervous about the coming training session. By the time we leave, my face hurts from smiling and my stomach aches from laughing, but I'm in a good mood as Katzula takes us to a lower-ground floor and leaves us outside a closed and locked door with the tributes from the other Districts.

The boy from 4 approaches us the moment Katzula leaves, whistling appreciatively as her back turns. I watch Katzula's shoulders tighten but she otherwise ignores him, continuing on as if he doesn't even exist. Admittedly, I'm impressed with her as I turn to look back at him, feeling alternating emotions as he turns his stormy eyes on MaddiGrace.

"Tex Houston," He informs her, thrusting out a hand. "You are an exceptional beauty, 12. I don't think I've ever laid eyes on something so delectably gorgeous."

I almost gag. Almost. Something tells me that this isn't a smart move to make and instead, I roll my eyes and wait for MaddiGrace's response to the boy. I have to catch my jaw as she flushes and offers him an extremely girlish giggle. She's _flirting_ with him!

"You're not so bad yourself, 4," She winks, her words so sweet I feel positively sick. She touches his arm gently and leans forward, her lips almost touching his ear as she whispers her name in response. When she pulls back, she looks impressed with herself and extremely happy. "You looked pretty good last night…"

"I wasn't as impressed with what your stylist came up with," He tells her. I force my hands to uncurl from fists the moment I realise they're clenched, but it doesn't seem to help. All I can think about is hitting the slimy little toad who is so obviously trying to bed MaddiGrace. "But I wouldn't have minded if you were on my arm, instead of _his_."

I stalk away the moment the doors are opened by a pair of Peacekeepers. MaddiGrace seems oblivious to my absence and I'm okay with that. I listen to the instructor letting us in on the rules, informing us about the stations and various other things he feels we need to know, and the moment he lets us explore, I head in the direction of the weaponry station.

The demonstrations are helpful. I watch closely, taking extreme interest in the throwing knives on display and the large hooked twin blades that the instructor twirls like they weigh less than a feather. I'm careful to not look to interested, but I'm uncertain how well I pull it off as I stand, arms crossed, watching.

"Need help, 12?"

I turn, distracted by the voice, and my eyes fall on the tanned girl from 2. She looks much smaller up close, less impressive in reality than on the big screen. She looked almost innocent as she stood before me, shorter than MaddiGrace, with her arms crossed over her chest and a brow cocked. The smile on her lips was teasing, but partially serious at the same time.

Her dark hair was pulled back into a braid and then knotted at the nape of her long, slender neck. I was struck by how attractive she was, by the way her brown-black eyes held me fixed on the spot. I flashed her a charming smile.

"Are you offering?"

She looked surprised for less than a heartbeat. If I had've blinked, I would have certainly missed it. She caught herself sharply and threw just as charming a smile back and took a step forward, lifting her eyes to meet mine. "That depends on what you pick."

"What do _you_ think I'll pick?" I murmur as I step closer. She has to tilt her head right back to look at me now and I can feel the faintest brush of her breath on the exposed skin of my neck as she laughs softly, quietly.

"If that's how you want to play it, 12…" She twirls away in a heated smell of vanilla and wild berries. I inhale the smell deeply, almost happily, as I watch her stand in front of the tables full of weaponry. She stands with her back to me for quite some time before she turns sharply and heads back to my side, pressing a large bundle of folded material in my hands.

She waits expectantly as I unroll the bundle, revealing row after row of sharp knives. They're all small, small enough to fit in my palm. Throwing knives. I smile slightly and meet her gaze, looking so sure of herself that I almost want to press them back into her hands and laugh at her. "And what is catches your attention, 2?"

"I'm not particular to anything, 12." She informs me, her voice dripping with false sweetness. "For the sake of not showing you up, I thought I'd simply… advise you."

"How sweet." I counter coolly. "But I'm not worried. In fact, I'm almost disappointed you're not willing to show off, 2."

She opens her mouth and then snaps it shut, looking torn.

"Not scared, are you?" I throw in for good measure.

She scowls at me and snags a second roll of cloth from the table, as well as several other of the smaller weapons (including a nastily spiked ball on the end of a short stick). "Come on, 12," She snarls, leading me toward the targets. "I'll show you what I'm capable off."

My first handful of throws are clumsy and miss the target completely. The girl from 2 offers helpful tips as she stands off to the side, head tilted, dark eyes inspecting every move I make. The more I throw, the more confident I become with the small knives until I'm hurling them further and further, getting closer and closer to the bullseye on every human-shaped dummy target. Every time I run out of knives, the girl from 2 jogs the distances and yanks them from each target, returning cheerily with further advice.

Once or twice, I even managed to impress her.

"Alright, 12…" The look on her face informs me that she's about to make me regret teasing her. I smile sweetly as she slips a knife from her belt. "I'm about to make you look like a child."

"I am a child." I call.

She rolls her eyes and throws the knife. It hits the furthest target, burying itself so deep in the chest of the dummy that I wonder whether we'll be able to get it out. She throws several more, each a kill shot. As if she needs to make me look even more foolish than my first shots had been, she uses a target that is a little closer (not much) and writes her district number out with knives. The moment the 2 is fully written out by the hilts of the small blades, she turns to me with a perfectly innocent smile.

"Impressive." I offer honestly. "What else can you use, or are knives the only thing you can?"

The insulted look on her face last a little longer than any other look I've seen, long enough for me to laugh softly, before she stalks to the table and returns with a bow and a quiver full of arrows. She sends arrow after arrow flying into the dummies and circular targets until I almost choke on my laughter at the words she's managed to write out with her deadly shots.

'_District 12 sucks._'

"At least you can spell." I tease her as I take the bow and a return for a quiver of arrows. When I'm beside her again, she helps me adjust into a stance, her hands gently adjusting me until she's content with the way I'm holding the bow. My first arrow strikes the shoulder of the first dummy. Nothing but a very mild flesh wound.

"Hm," She cocks her head to the side. "You need a lot of work, 12."

By the time lunch time comes, the girl from 2 has shown me how to use each and every weapon that she's comfortable with. This includes the bow, the throwing knives, a handful of different swords and short blades, the spiked club and so many more I can't name. She's almost pleased with how quickly I put them up, too.

Part of me enjoys the teasing banter between us, my sudden competitive drive that refuses to allow me to give in as she teases and calls me out on how inadequate my weaponry skills are. But come lunch time, we're both starving and head into a separate room to enjoy the Capitol's hearty spread of foods neither of us can name. That other part of me wishes that I didn't have to go into the arena in several days and worry about her killing me. Because, right now, all I can think of is how easily we could be friends.

"I'm getting tired of calling you 2," I inform her as I drop into the seat across from her, dipping a large chunk of fresh, warm bread into a steaming bowl of some thick and irresistible bowl of soup. "And tired of you calling me 12."

She looks slightly torn for a moment, a forkful of rice and duck halfway to her full lips. "Tertia."

"Sam." I smile faintly. I'm not sure whether knowing her name makes me feel better or worse, but I'd rather know her name if I have to kill her. At the same time, the thought of killing her now that I know her name makes my stomach churn unhappily. "Your name… it's pretty."

She wrinkles her nose. "It's my grandmother's name."

"You're not fond of her?" I question softly.

"12 – Sam – we shouldn't be getting to know each other." The smile she throws me, while being guarded in parts, is slightly sad. She sets her fork down and holds my gaze squarely with hers, her dark eyes oddly captivating. "In a few days, we're all going to be fighting for our lives to go home. It'll just be that much harder to kill a _friend_."

"Then don't kill." I counter. "If none of us are willing to fight, then no one has to die and they can't keep these stupid Games going."

"Sam," Her dark eyes are carefully wiped clear as she leans forward, looking as if she'd like to slap the stupid right out of me. "We will all fight. We won't have a choice. At the end of the day, Sam, each and every last one of us wants to go home and the Capitol hold all the power. They will _make_ us fight."

She's right. I know she's right, but it doesn't lessen the urge to argue with her. She sits back and resumes eating her rice and duck mixture and I contemplate what I'm going to say next as I dunk chunks of the lovely, fluffy, fresh bread that tastes of so many different herbs and spices that I'm caught off guard, especially coupled with the exotic taste of the soup.

"There's only so much they can do, though." I shrug.

"There's only so much we can stand strong against." She reminds me coolly. "If they were threatening your family, would you fight then? Say they started killing every single member of your family, one by one, every day… how long would you last?"

I stare at her blankly and all she offers is a knowing smile as she returns to her lunch, completely unsurprised by my response. Or lack of.

"Come on, 12 – Sam…" She looks almost apologetic as she corrects herself. "It's not so bad. Just think, you might not have to ever kill anyone."

"Are you okay with killing someone?" I counter.

She steels herself and suddenly, I don't know if I want her to answer my question. She no longer looks like a girl I could be friends with, or a girl who had been so helpful – even if she was making fun of me half the time.

"At the end of the day," She murmurs. "I don't have a choice."

I don't miss the self-disgust that shadows her words, her eyes, no matter how hard she tries to hide it. She's no different to me. She doesn't really want to kill anyone, but unlike me, she's forcing herself to believe that she doesn't have a choice. But she does. It really is that simple. It's the consequences that aren't, the emotions clouding her mind make it seem like she doesn't have a choice. But she does. We all do.

"You do." I tell her quietly. "You have a choice. You just tell yourself you don't because it is easier that way, but in reality, we all have a choice."

"And what choice are you making?" She speaks so softly I almost miss it. Almost.

My eyes find MaddiGrace several tables over, laughing and joking with the boy from 4 – Tex. I chew at my lip for a moment before I let my attention return to Tertia's waiting gaze.

"Whatever I have to." I declare finally, my voice strangely devoid of emotion. "To keep _her_ safe."

"Then you're no different to any of the rest of us."


	10. Chapter Eight

_Chapter Eight_

_' "Keep breathing 'cause I'm not leaving you anymore,_

_Believe it, hold on to me and never let me go." '_

Nickelback – _Far Away_.

By the end of the day, I find myself considering Tertia a friend. She was both scary and enthralling, the kind of person who left me so confused that I couldn't help but try to figure out. I had a feeling that she considered me a friend, too, but neither of us broached that subject. We weren't willing or able to. The thought of confessing that I considered her, a girl from District 2, a friend seemed… it seemed wrong. How could I consider her a friend, but be willing to kill her if I needed to to protect MaddiGrace?

We had continued at the weaponry stations for a while, making a game out of my learning how to use each new weapon. By the time we left the weapons, I was competent with most of them, if not all, and felt that I had at least a good fighting chance. I still favoured the throwing knives because they meant I wouldn't have to get so close, but it turned out I handled the close-combat weapons much more effectively.

Tertia then suggested we explore different stations, so we did. We spent a fair amount of time at a station based on first aid and by the time we were told to get lost, Tertia resembled and mummy and I… well, I'm not sure, but her bandaging skills were much better than mine. I barely spoke to MaddiGrace all day, but Tertia was enough to keep me occupied, and then the day was over and Katzula was waiting for us by the elevator.

"How did you guys go?" Katzula finally questioned as we sat around the too-big table, plates piled high with expensive food.

"Sammy made a girlfriend." MaddiGrace supplied cheerily, her eyes twinkling.

"Oh?" Katzula looked at me, curious.

"Nothing like that." I snort, "Tertia – the girl from 2. She helped me out with learning to use a few of the weapons…" I shrug and turn my gaze to MaddiGrace. "Besides, I wasn't flirting like you were."

"This could get nasty…" Katzula chuckles around a mouthful of God-knows-what.

"I wasn't flirting with Tex!" MaddiGrace shakes her head. "We were just being friendly."

"You know how to light a fire… hell, you _don't_ _need_ anything to light a fire!" I exclaim, almost disgusted with her for denying it. MaddiGrace flushes slightly and folds her arms over her chest. Katzula sits awkwardly still beside her, trying to look as if she can't hear a word we're saying. "And yet, you played dumb for that boy from 4."

MaddiGrace looks both hurt and furious. She shoves her chair back so roughly it falls, snapping against the floor. She pauses, as if considering picking it up or shouting at me, and then turns on her heel and stalks into her room. The door slams, breaking the silence, Katzula lets out a shaky breath and I simply groan.

"You should really stop saying things… she's thin enough, missing too many more meals might kill her, Sam." Katzula chides me softly, gently, and I throw her a hard glare. She doesn't wither away like I expect her too and suddenly I switch her face with Tertia's in my mind, but Katzula doesn't glare back and me and the illusion fades as fast as it arrived.

"Have you worked out any more of that stupid plan?" I demand, frowning.

Katzula scowls at me. "No. I haven't. And if it weren't for the fact that I rather like MaddiGrace, I don't think I would bother trying to help you right now. I can assure you, however, that I am trying to arrange everything."

"Great!" I throw my hands up angrily. "This whole thing is so… so useless!"

"Sam," Katzula rises slowly to her feet, her eyes cold. It's the first time I've ever seen her look truly unhappy with me, I realise, and that shocks me. "I'm doing my best. I'm trying my hardest. If you can't appreciate that a little, if you can't stop to… look, just grow up!"

"Kat…"

"Don't." She glares at me. "Just because you had a bad day, just because MaddiGrace is talking and flirting with some boy… does not give you any right to treat me, or even her, like we are less than dirt! Perhaps it is best if we don't talk until we absolutely have to."

Katzula leaves me alone with my simmering anger. She heads in a direction I haven't even noticed before, taking a door I didn't see, and I almost follow her. Instead, I sit stupidly at the table before I head for my own room. I spend a while in the shower, letting the scalding water burn every last thread of frustration and anger from me, until I'm mostly numb with only a slight sampling of self-disgust.

Dressed only in thin cotton pyjama pants, I try to apologise to MaddiGrace. She refuses to answer the door when I knock and although I try the handle, the door is locked. Katzula isn't even in her room, so I stand outside it for a while, looking around our apartment-like floor. Part of me suspects Katzula has gone out to explore the Capitol, I'm certain she has no rules that say she has to stay in this building at all times, and part of me wants to find her.

In a spur of the moment decision, I head for the door that I saw Katzula disappear into. It opens into a small stairwell that I climb hurriedly, taking the stairs two and three at a time until I almost smack face-first into the door at the top. I manage to open it and a blast of chilly night air slams into my chest.

I'm greeted with the most unexpected sight imaginable. The stars twinkle overhead, more beautiful than the multi-coloured lights of the Capitol below the building. I almost cry out as gravel digs into my bare feet, my eyes darting to the ground below me. I side-step onto a small pavestone and follow it, my eyes on the ground for most of the short trip, and then I look up.

More than half of the roof top is made up of garden beds and small, potted tree. I catch my breath as I move amongst the sweet-scented flowers, the proud looking trees with their full branches… somewhere amongst it all, I find a stone fountain.

And Katzula.

I approach her quietly, surprised she didn't realise I was there. I stand off to the side and watch her for a moment. She looks almost… I catch myself before I can finish the thought, watching as she lets her fingers trail gently through the pool surrounding the water fountain. Her eyes are lowered, almost closed, but she looks surprisingly peaceful. Content.

"Kat…" She jumps as I speak her name. She almost slips into the fountain and I have to bite back a laugh. "I'm sorry."

"It's okay." She shrugs. "I can't even begin to imagine what you're going through, so I won't even try… we both overreacted."

I sit down beside her, letting my gaze wander around the rooftop garden. "Are we allowed up here?"

"If we weren't, I doubt there'd be an access door." She shrugs.

We sit in silence for a while. Katzula returns to skimming her hand over the surface of the water, creating a ripple effect wherever her fingers touch it. I watch her, marvelling at the way it distorts our reflection. I hope to God that the arena I'm going to be dumped in is mostly land because I sure as hell can't swim, and the idea of being surrounded by water… I shudder at the thought.

"I wish we had met under different circumstances, Sam." Katzula's voice is wistful as she continues to stare down at the water. I watch her face, examining it closely. "I don't want to have to watch you in that arena…"

I hug her with one arm, uncertain as to what to say. Katzula turns and buries her head in the space between my shoulder and neck, her breath tickling my skin as she wraps her arms around my waist. I let my other arm drape over her, figuring that considering I have no words, I'll comfort her as best I can. The hug seems to be enough right now, so I simply hold her close. Her body head is comforting and I even let my head rest atop hers, inhaling the sweet smells of her hair and the flowers around us that wafted around me with the slight breeze.

"Sam…" Katzula's lips brushed against my neck, sending odd shivers racing the length of my spine as she lifted her head slightly. I shifted mine, arching my neck awkwardly until I could almost see her face. She didn't look up, didn't move her head enough for me to see her eyes, but I didn't mind so much. "I _can't_ watch you die."

I frown. Something about the tone of her voice catches me off guard, but I can't place my finger on it. "Hey, you're keeping MG safe for me, so I promise I'll do my best to get out…"

She lifts her head fully now and I'm confronted with the full extent of her eyes. Those odd eyes stare at me, pinning me to the stop, almost freezing me in place with their intensity. Tears glimmer behind her eyes, but she sets her jaw and swallows loudly.

"You don't understand, Sam…" She inhales a little shakily. "I can't – _I won't_ – watch you die."

"Kat…"

Before I can even begin to work out what is going on, Katzula's lips find mine, successfully stealing my first kiss. I freeze as her lips begin to move against mine, so soft and gentle and feeling oddly like the satin of the Capitol blankets on the train. I open my mouth and her tongue slips inside, rubbing itself against mine.

I taste the saltiness of her tears before I feel them. They flow freely down her face from behind her closed eyes as I stare, wide-eyed, at her pale face. Her hands lift to cup my face as she continues to kiss me, trying to evoke a reaction. I close my eyes, feel myself yielding slightly, and then she draws back.

She's torn herself from my grasp before I can stop her and for a moment she stands in front of me, looking horrified. A strangled apology slips from her lips before she takes off, sprinting away from me.

I stare after her for a long time. My mind slowly clears itself of the thick fog, allowing a few clear but confused thoughts to slip through my mind. I touch my face, wiping the dampness from my cheeks, and then my fingers flutter to my lips. I trace my lips with the very tips of my fingers, applying only the lightest touch.

_What the hell just happened?_

…

Katzula is absent from breakfast, but I manage to apologise to MaddiGrace. She forgives me willingly, happily, and together we head down to the training room. She leaves me the moment the double doors open, heading off to find Tex from District 4, while I wander around the stations aimlessly, trying to wrap my mind around the events of the night just gone.

I'm so lost in my thoughts that I don't even notice Tertia until I'm flat on my back, staring up into her dark eyes. The pleased expression on her small, round face informs me that she is the reason I'm lying here, but I say nothing as she thrusts out a hand and helps me to my feet.

"I hope you don't get that dazed in the arena," She teases as we head for the station that will teach us all we need to know about snares. We drop to the ground, cross-legged, and fiddle with the ropes. "What's on your mind, Sam?"

"We're not being friends, remember?" I throw back, offering her a half-smile as I toss the ropes down in front of me, positively fuming. I can't get my mind off of Katzula, which makes trying to learn something utterly pointless, which means I have no hope of ever learning how to make a snare that will work and possibly save my life. "This is stupid!"

"Alright, Princess," Tertia's voice is harsh as she prods me hard in the side with a stick she was using. Her rows of impressively constructed snares make my mood sour even more as I slump back, scowling at her. "Spill it or I'm gonna shove this through your heart."

"Go ahead." I shrug, sitting back on my hands. "You were the one who didn't want to get personal, Tertia." I remind her. "So why start now?"

"Because beating you is no fun when you're carrying on like a child." She counters cheerfully enough. "And I was thinking that, perhaps, we could form an alliance in the arena. But if you're going to be like this all the time, I'm no longer interested."

I smile and almost laugh at her. She returns the smile and for the first time since I've met her – which was only yesterday, admittedly – there is nothing lingering behind that smile. "I just don't know, Tertia… I guess I'm just frustrated. I want to go home as much as anyone else, but…"

"You're lying." She informs me. "About what's bothering you."

"How exactly can you tell?" I ask curiously, unable to stop myself. She smiles and shrugs sweetly, refusing to give anything else away, and I scowl at her. "The Capitol girl who shows me and my District partner around… she kissed me."

"Is that all?" Tertia rolls her eyes. "That's nothing to get all worked up over."

"I'm in love with my District partner." I reply, glaring at her. "And Katzula – that's the Capitol girl, my escort – knows that… and… it was…"

"Your first kiss." Tertia finishes when I can't. She softens slightly. "Got yourself quite a mess there, 12." She teases before she looks away. I follow her gaze to the boy from 2, the guy she came here with and the guy I thought, automatically, she would team up with. "You want to know why I'm over here, trying to form an alliance with you, and not the boy from my district?"

I nod.

"I used to follow Nero around like a lost puppy before we came here. I always made sure he didn't see me, I think I would have died if he had… and then, one day, I finally got the courage up to ask him out." She hesitates, her eyes darkening at the memory that only she can see. I wait patiently for her to continue her story. "I don't know what made me think I had a chance with him, he was the most popular boy out and he had his eye on Fantasia – District 2's own pride and joy, the daughter of the Mayor – but I guess I figured I had nothing to lose…"

I frown as she trails off. She doesn't seem like she's going to continue, her small face hardening and growing so dark I almost want to touch her, to snap her out of the memory. Instead, I simply watch her, forcing myself to speak. "What happened?"

She shakes her head roughly several times and swallows. "It was horrible. I walked up to him and just blurted it out. In front of his friends. They all started laughing and teasing me and he just stood there, smiling down at me like I was the most pathetic thing in the world… and then he took my hand and walked me behind the shop. He told me I had to…" She cut herself off sharply, her eyes hard. "I almost did… but then I couldn't, so I shoved him off me and tried to get away…"

"Tertia, you can stop…" I murmur, my heart growing cold as I watch her.

"He grabbed me and shoved me into the wall behind us. He held a knife to my throat, told me if I ever said a word to the Peacekeepers, he'd make me regret it. I kneed him so hard that he wet his pants." She laughed bitterly. "He cried. He actually cried. His friends saw it and I took off. I made sure I found Fantasia and I told her just how much of a lowlife creep she was. Rumour got around and… he made me pay."

"What… what did he do?"

She lifted her shirt, revealing a long and jagged line that ran across her stomach. "I told everyone I cut myself during training, but he tried to gut me like I was a pig or something." Her eyes found Nero. He was watching us, the faintest of smiles on his face. "I almost died."

I watch as she resumes working on her snares, not even looking at what she's doing. Over and over she builds a steady flow of snares until she runs out of items and ideas for new ones. We climb to our feet and head to a camouflage station. She grabs hold of my arm just before we stop in front of it, her eyes cold as she meets my gaze.

"If I can't kill him before I die, Sam…" She holds my gaze coldly. "Then you have to. He cannot go home."

I say nothing and we spend the rest of our time playing with mud and dirt, the mood lightening despite the heavy cloud hanging over my head.

…

MaddiGrace joins Tertia and I at lunch time, leaving behind her small fan club of Tex and the boys from 6, 8 and 9. She looks oddly bored and exhausted as she slumps down beside me, slinging an arm around my shoulder and taking a large swig from my orange juice before she takes her arm from around me and holds it out to Tertia, introducing herself.

"I can't wait to go to bed," MaddiGrace informs us, a yawn emphasizing her words. She pushes a mixture of salad around on her plate, picking at it every now and then. "I am so tired I think I could even fall asleep in a pond."

"You realise the first of our courses start after lunch…?" Tertia looks unimpressed as MaddiGrace cries out in disappointment and disgust, throwing her hands up in the air. My best-friend almost nearly face plants her salad as she head-butts the table, wrapping her arms over the back of her head and emitting a muffled squeal into the surface of the table.

"No…" I shake my head slowly and pat MaddiGrace's back, trying to quieten her as she fake-sobs. "What do we have to do?"

"An obstacle course, and then some kind of climbing wall." Tertia supplies helpfully, frowning at MaddiGrace who only fake-sobs louder at Tertia's words. "We have an agility course tomorrow, as well as some sort maze…" MaddiGrace gets even louder. "And then we go back to normal for our last day of training… but that ends at lunch… didn't your escort telling you anything?"

The mention of Katzula stops MaddiGrace and she lifts her head quickly, so quickly her neck cracks in protest. She winces and I find myself absent-mindedly massaging the back of her neck as she stares at Tertia. "Kitty Kat wasn't at breakfast."

"Kitty Kat?" Tertia's nose wrinkles.

"Kat… Katzula." MaddiGrace chimes. "Our escort. We call her Kat for short. Kitty Kat sounded fitting, though."

She hums to herself and I start to question whether she is intentionally trying to weird out my new friend. It seems to be working. Tertia watches MaddiGrace with a scowl, her eyes dark. I hope to God Katzula can find a way to keep MaddiGrace out of the arena because I sure as hell like my chances better with Tertia, but her and MaddiGrace? I shudder at the thought.

"So, you're Capitol suck-ups, huh?" Tertia bites out, causing MaddiGrace to fall silent.

"Kat isn't like the others." MaddiGrace informs her firmly, on the defensive. I smile slightly as Tertia tilts her head, cracking her neck. Her brow is arched and I almost laugh. She's _testing_ MaddiGrace, I realise suddenly. "She's better than them and like one of us. She wants to stop this."

"She's still a Capitol brat," Tertia leans forward, cupping her chin in her hands. The mask of innocence she puts on is flawless, I note as I watch her. She bats her eyes gently at my best-friend. "So you are both Capitol suck-ups. I thought 12 had standards…"

"Take that back!" MaddiGrace snaps at Tertia. The girl merely smiles, successfully infuriating my best-friend a little more. I groan under my breath, trying to ignore the looks we are now receiving from the other tributes. Especially Nero and Tex, I notice. Nero is looking between Tertia and MaddiGrace

"What's the matter, 12?" Tertia teases. "Didn't want to get caught out?"

"If Katzula could, she'd stop this entire thing!" MaddiGrace snarls, almost lunging across the table to grab Tertia. I intervene quickly, snagging my friend by the back of the shirt. Tertia's on her feet, shifting from foot to foot and looking bored at MaddiGrace fumes at her. I shift myself between the pair, wincing as Tex approaches us, looking amused. "She's make the stupid Capitol…"

I swing around, clamping my hand over her mouth before she can finish. The silence is deafening as I look around, meeting wide-eyed gazes. The Peacekeepers don't move forward, don't head towards us, but I still feel fear prickle the back of my neck as I look down at MaddiGrace. Her eyes are wide, as if she finally realises what she'd started to say. I let my hand drop from her mouth and shift until she's tucked behind me, my eyes darting between tributes and Peacekeepers.

"You're not so bad, MaddiGrace." Tertia says after what seems like forever. Slowly, the room fills with noise and I relax. MaddiGrace slumps into her seat and throws Tertia a half-scowl-half-smile as she pushes her plate away. "In fact, I like you. You're better than the princess you got here with."

And, just like that, MaddiGrace and Tertia are like the best of friends. It's like they've known each other their entire lives – and I find myself at the victim of their pranks and jokes for the rest of lunch. But I don't mind. I find myself swimming in relief that MaddiGrace is beside me, safe and unharmed.

I guess the fact that she'll probably die in the newly established Hunger Games is punishment enough to keep the Peacekeepers from dragging her away for speaking out against the Capitol.

…

MaddiGrace left Tertia the moment we returned to the rearranged training room. The idea of turning the two new hoops we had to jump through for the Capitol into a competition didn't appeal to her in the slightest. I was starting to doubt it as Tertia and I stood by off to the side, barely listening to the instructor as he explained the obstacle course that ended in a skyscraper sized climbing wall.

The moment he gave the all clear, the boy from District 1 was sent through. I didn't have the heart to watch, so I simply eased myself to the ground beside Tertia's feet and she watched for the pair of us.

"The trick is not to panic." Tertia declared as the boy returned from the course a few minutes later, the girl rushing off to show the Gamemakers what she was made off. "Don't even think about it. Just react."

"Should I close my eyes, too?" I snort as I look up at her. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Nero approaching the start of the course as the girl from 1 finishes, looking as if she'd very much like to die right there and then.

"If you think it'll help." Tertia teases. "You need all the help you can get, anyway."

I laugh and climb to my feet just in time to see Nero finish the course. He throws a smile at Tertia, his eyes cold and almost gloating as he looks at her. Tertia growls low in the back of her throat and I find myself giving a soft squeeze to her shoulder as she starts to head for the course.

"Don't trip!" I shout after her and she throws me a pointed look, softened only by the humorous laughter behind her eyes. "I want everyone to see me wipe the floor with you and not have to feel sorry for you because you can't stay upright!"

"Bring it on, 12!" She calls back cockily.

Tertia flies through the obstacle course. She bounds the low hedges, throws herself under what I assume is some sort of mesh. On hands and knees she scurries over rough rocks and bounds over small pools of water. I can hardly believe she has the energy for the climbing wall when she jerks to a stop below it.

"She'll fall."

I jump at the voice, my eyes flashing to Nero. He stands off to my left, arms crossed over his chest, his eyes pinned on Tertia as she hesitates at the base of the wall. He looks so confident with his prediction that I almost want to slap him. Instead, I do the only thing I can think of that could help Tertia.

"Come on 2!" I shout at the top of my lungs. Tertia's head swings around, her eyes finding me. "You're gonna make it too easy for me!"

It works like a charm. I'm not sure if it's because of what I said or because she saw Nero, but Tertia throws herself onto the climbing wall in the same way she threw herself into the rest of the course. She's like a blur as she scales it, getting higher and higher. I almost don't have the heart to watch her as she freezes near the top, where a jutted edge hangs out. She'll have to literally hang, relying on her arms, or jump and hope to God she doesn't fall.

She stretches as far as she possibly can, reaching for the edge of the lip at the top. She slips and begins to fall just at the same moment someone – MaddiGrace, I'll bet – screams so loudly I jump. Beside me Nero is smiling.

Tertia doesn't fall far. She catches herself part way down and scales the rest before the instructor can stop her. She jumps the moment she gets to the part she slipped, the last haul, and somehow manages to catch herself on the lip of the jutted out stone and haul herself up. She stands up the second she's up, her hands on her hips as she looks down at the rest of us.

She takes a moment to breathe and then rather than use the flying fox to get to the ground, Tertia climbs down the wall and bounds back through the obstacle course, a smile plastered to her face. She skids to a stop just in front of Nero and I, and the moment he walks away, she collapses into a heap in front of me. Her breathing comes in jagged gasps as she grins up at me.

"Beat that, 12." She hisses out.

Tex is the next one to make it through the course, and then the boy from 6, the girl from 7, both from 11… and then it's my turn. Tertia has completely recovered by this point and she whispers strings of advice and encouragement to me before I head for the starting point, my heart pounding so loudly in my chest that I can barely hear a word.

I race through the obstacle part without much worry. I take the easier route. After watching twenty-two tributes, I had my route pegged out pretty well. Once or twice I had to change my course, but overall, it was effortless. I stuck to running where I could, not bothering to climb or jump or swing unless I had no other option. I was far too worried up the upcoming wall and if I wasted too much energy on the first part, there was no way I could scale it.

My feet skidded to a stop seconds before I slammed into the climbing wall. I took a deep breath and a step back, craning my neck to try and figure out the best way to go about it. I hopped from foot to foot, wishing more of the tributes had made it through. Time was wasting, I knew, and if I didn't go soon then the instructor would call me back and send MaddiGrace through so we could all return to our floors for the night.

In a probably stupid and hasty move, I jumped at the wall. I used my height and the spring from my jump to propel me as high as possible, my fingers curling around a handhold some way up. It worked surprising well, I realised as I began to climb.

I didn't climb it straight upward, like Tertia had. Instead, I used the pair from 11 as my inspiration and sort of zigzagged my way up the wall. Several times I almost fell, plummeting to the bottom regardless of the harness I was strapped into was a terrifying thought. Somehow, I made it to the top. I'm not certain how, but I did.

"Come on, 12!"

I could barely hear Tertia from up here, her voice not quite deep enough to make the distance. I grinned and forced myself back down the wall rather than opting for the flying fox. I bounded back, taking the same route through the rest of the course as I started it with. By the time I collapsed in front of her, I was in hysterics as she stood over me, grinning.

"You still need to work on it." Tertia informs me as she helps me up. We both turn, watching as MaddiGrace skips contently through the obstacle course. She stops at the foot of the wall, touches it, and then turns on her heel and skips back. "Your partner is weird, 12."

"Weird is good." I laugh, watching fondly as MaddiGrace skips right to a stop in front of Tex. "I wouldn't want her any other way."


	11. Chapter Nine

_Chapter Nine_

_' "For once in my life, I'm scared to death,_

_I'm taking this chance letting you inside." '_

Lifehouse – _First Time_.

Our third day of training was mostly uneventful. The obstacle courses were a challenge in themselves, but somehow, I managed to fly through them without much hassle. I surprised myself, in all honesty, and I had a feeling the reason I did so well had to do with the competition Tertia and I made out of it.

By the time lunch came around, Tertia was in an exceptionally good mood. The thought of getting back to a just visiting the stations was comforting and I had a feeling that Tertia was desperate to get back to showing me up after our ties with the show put on for the Gamemakers.

"I saw your Capitol girl this morning," Tertia declares suddenly, after she's consumed a large portion of some kind of fruit salad. I look at her curiously, moving the fried rice around on my plate as a way to keep from seeming too curious. "She's extremely pretty, considering."

"She's rebelling." I laugh, shrugging. "Although I have no idea what she's hoping to achieve by refusing to take part in the Capitol's ridiculous customs."

"Is she still avoiding you?" Tertia persists, clearly not willing to let go of the subject.

I frown. "Sort of. I saw her for about a second at breakfast."

"She looked pretty worried about something." Tertia offered. "Maybe her rebellion is working…?"

_Or maybe she can't find a way to keep MaddiGrace out of the arena_, I think, my stomach churning. I do my best not to look too worried as I push my plate away, lifting my eyes to look around the lunch room. The mood in here is oddly cheerful, which probably means everyone is ready to get back to doing whatever they want instead of jumping through hoops for the Capitol. My eyes land on MaddiGrace and my heart stops.

She's perfect. Laughing and joking like she doesn't have a care in the world as she flirts with Tex and several of the other boys. I sigh and rub at my temples, massaging the ache that has started to spread across my forehead. I can feel Tertia's eyes examining me, looking for some sort of clue. I throw her a smile and drag a hand back through my hair, wishing for the impossible.

"That's not the only thing she's doing… is it?" Tertia murmurs, leaning forward. Her eyes are narrowed dangerously and I throw a weary glance around us, but no one seems interested at all. "Sam, is she a _rebel_?"

"Not as far as I know," I lie. Tertia looks insulted as she sits back, folding her arms over her chest. Clearly, she doesn't buy my lie. I don't know why I'm surprised by that. Tertia seems to see everything, regardless of how well she does or doesn't know someone. "Why? Are you?"

"The only thing I want to rebel against is these Games." Tertia replies stiffly. "But I can't, can I?"

"You can by not fighting in them." I offer. "That'd be an act of rebellion."

"It would also get me killed. I don't want to go home _dead_, Sam." She laughs loudly, so loudly a few heads turn our way. "I don't care that your Capitol girl is a rebel… I care about the fact that you're lying to me and in two days, we'll be in the arena, in an alliance… there's no way it can work if you don't _trust_ me."

I'm saved from answering by the doors to the training room opening. We all slide in happily, moving amongst the stations. Tertia drops the subject as we head straight for the weaponry. Tomorrow, before our private sessions with the Gamemakers, we have decided to spend every last second between the survivalist tables. Our goal is to memorise a list of edible plants and wildlife as well as some of the poisonous stuff, while learning standard first aid and camouflage. It's a good plan and I'm almost sad that it's _Tertia_'s idea.

"12…"

I lift my eyes, staring into the scarily cold eyes of the boy from 7. His arms are so thick I have a feeling he could rip my head clean from my neck with nothing but a pinkie finger and I have to wonder _why_ I didn't notice him more when we watched the Reapings on the train. He snags an axe from the table beside me and, without even looking, hurls it so far and so hard that it sounds almost like a clap of thunder when it buries itself in the wall beside where Tertia is pulling her throwing knives from.

I shove him, hard, as she jumps back with a strangled cry. He barely moves, looks almost amused, and lifts one dark brow as I glare at him.

"What the hell?" I exclaim loudly. "You could've hit her!"

"I knew I wouldn't." He simply oozes with self-belief, leaving me to wonder just how big his ego is. Tertia's face is like lightning as she slips between me and the massive beast from 7, shoving him as hard as she can. It's about as effective as a mouse trying to move a brick wall, with makes me feel at least a little better with my attempt.

"You jerk!" She hisses, her eyes positively burning. "What, can't wait until we're in the arena to kill me?"

"If I was going to kill you, you'd be dead, 2." He informs her with a lazy roll of his eyes. I catch Tertia's arm as she attempts to throw a right hook. If it had been against me or MaddiGrace, I'm sure the hit would be impressive, but the boulder in front of us would probably not even blink in response to her small fist catching him. She glares at me as I hold tightly to her arm. "I want an alliance."

"Ha!" Tertia snorts. "As if, 7!"

"You need my help." He informs us, so sure of himself.

"We'll manage." Tertia bites out, looking like she'd very much like to hit _me_ because I refuse to let go of her. I take a step back, pulling her with me, when I decide that there should probably be a tad more distance between Tertia and the boy from 7.

"Your District partner," He speaks slowly as he looks at her. "Is pairing up with the pairs from 1 and 3, and the boy from 4." He ignores Tertia's shrug and turns to look at me now, his eyes cool. "I've paired off with the girl from 4, and while I'm certain I can protect her well enough alone… I would appreciate the help."

"Get lost." Tertia growls.

"Hold on, Tertia." I look at the boy from 7 curiously. The girl from 4 was a tiny thing, the youngest here, and probably more frightened than the lot of us put together. My eyes roam the training room for her, but I can't find her. "Why would you be helping the girl from 4?"

"Because…" 7 holds my gaze squarely, his eyes hard. "Because her district partner has decided he would rather leave her alone. She won't last thirty seconds on her own, 12."

"That doesn't explain why _you_ feel the need to _protect her_." Tertia helpfully supplies.

"I have a sister her age." He grounds out roughly. "Alliance or not?"

"You realise there are already three of us, so with you and the girl from 4, that would make five…" I frown at him.

"Who is the fifth?" He demands, looking slightly surprised.

"MaddiGrace… the girl from 12." Tertia's eyes land on MaddiGrace, who is flirting once again with Tex. "Her and this one come as a package deal, apparently."

"Fine." He nods sharply. "I'll be back."

"Just so you know," Tertia calls after him as he heads off. "Sam here expects us to go by names!"

We wait patiently for the boy from 7 to return and when he does, I'm surprised with how gentle he is with the tiny girl from 4. She hides behind him in the same way she hid behind Tex on Reaping day. Big blue eyes peer out from behind 7's legs as he places a hand lightly on her shoulder, reassuring her.

"They're friends." He tells her softly, quietly. She offers a shaky smile as she looks up at him, her big eyes so heartbreakingly fearful I want to hug her. My eyes fly to MaddiGrace and for just a moment, I want to tell Katzula to swap trying to save her for trying to save the girl from 4 instead, but it passes. If we can keep the girl alive, maybe I can help _her_ win…

"Hey," Tertia smiles sweetly at the small child. "I'm Tertia, and this is my friend Sam. We're going to help you in the… the Games."

"Atticus?" The little girl looks up at the big guy from 7, her eyes disbelieving. He nods and she shifts slightly from foot to foot, her eyes darting from me to Tertia and back again.

"It's alright, Alexei." He assures her gently. "They're going to help us."

"How about we go play in the mud?" Tertia suggests, holding out her hand. The little girl nods and rushes forward, slipping her hand into Tertia's without a problem. Tertia throws one last wistful look at the weaponry station before she heads off for the camouflage section.

"Thank you." Atticus, the boy from 7, murmurs to me when they're gone.

"Are you willing to die for her?" I question him. "If you both make it to the end, are you going to kill her?"

He looks torn. "If I can get that far, and she can… then yes… I don't think I could live with myself if I killed her. Could you?"

My eyes dart to where Tertia and Alexei are throwing clumps of mud at each other, despite the instructor's red faced shouting. I smile slightly, thinking about my brothers, about Rocky. Could I come home if I had to kill her? I doubted it. I doubted I'd be able to bring myself to even seriously consider killing her.

"No." I agree. "But it would mean you'd have to kill yourself. Could you do that?"

"I'll cross that bridge when I come to it." He decides with a shrug, turning so he can watch Tertia and Alexei. "Why is it that you are paired with 2?"

"Tertia." I correct him. "I don't really know. It just happened."

…

"You want to know what your boyfriend has done?" I demand the moment MaddiGrace and I are alone. We are once again missing Katzula, which seems to be becoming a new hitch in our friendship. MaddiGrace tilts her head at me, arms crossed. "He's ditched the girl he came here with."

"He wouldn't…" MaddiGrace whispers, frowning. "No way…"

"I assure you, he has." I smile sourly at her. "The boy from 7 took her under his guide. He asked Tertia and me to help him with her today, so I guess she's your responsibility, too." MaddiGrace nods, still looking as if someone has just told her that the sky isn't really blue. "You okay with that?"

"Of course!" She nods. "I'm going to have a shower. I wish I knew where Kat was… I wanted to tell her something…"

Not long after MaddiGrace leaves does Katzula finally appear. She freezes as her eyes land on me, widening, and it takes me a moment to work out what is wrong about the girl standing in front of me.

A thin trail of blood rolls from the corner of her mouth, staining her pale flesh, and her clothes are torn and slightly tattered. There's a large bruise rising under the skin on her upper left arm, a matching bruise taking residence on her right cheekbone. I gape openly at her as she runs a hand through her messed blonde locks, her eyes clouded.

"What the…?" I finally speak, but it doesn't sound much like me.

"Hey, Sam." Katzula winces slightly as she moves forward, her hand moving to encircle her ribcage. I bound to my feet and guide her to our large table, helping ease her into a chair as she winces. "How was training?"

"What happened to you?" I ignore her question and pour her a cup of coffee. She accepts it gratefully, wrapping her shaking hands around the cup and bringing it to her lips. She winces with every movement, no matter how slight, while I hover nervously at her side. "Kat?"

"I broke the law, but it doesn't really matter. Everything is almost ready to go." She smiles slightly. "MaddiGrace will be perfectly safe, completely free of harm's way."

I sink into the seat beside her, turning it to face her. Katzula winces as she turns her head to look at me, and in response to her pain, I help her adjust the chair so she doesn't have to.

"How?" I finally ask when I can breathe again.

"There's this messed up Capitol girl I know who is just itching to get in on the action. She's going to take MaddiGrace's place tomorrow. Don't worry, Caine's gonna have her looking like a spitting image, so no one will know the difference." Katzula looks pleased with herself.

"When tomorrow?" I frown.

"Oh, when you're both in bed and fast asleep. When _everyone_ is asleep." She shrugs and regrets it, I note. She sets down her coffee and places her hands on her knees, biting her lip. "Sam, I suggest you tell her how you feel. You probably won't ever get another chance."

"How are you going to pull this off, Kat?" I demand.

"Caine is going to turn MaddiGrace into a Capitol girl." She sighs. "The moment they grab her tomorrow night, or early hours in the morning of the Games, she's going to undergo modifications so no one will ever recognise her, and then she'll be adopted by a Capitol family I know. I'll look after her, Sam."

I take her hand in mine and nod. "You wouldn't be able to pull off another miracle, would you?" She raises her brows questioningly. "The girl from 4."

"I wish I could, Sam." Katzula looks away. "I really wish I could, but there's no way we can, not now. It's taken too long to get this underway, and the possibility of finding someone Caine and his friends can turn into a twelve year old… it's unlikely."

"That's okay." I smile. "Wait – that's not how you…?"

"If that was the case, I'd be dead." She laughs. "No, I had a run in with a Peacekeeper and didn't mind my manners, that's all. No big deal."

I lean forward and kiss her cheek, not missing the flush that decorates her cheeks as I pull away. "Thank you, Kat. I don't know how I'll ever repay you."

Her hand, the one I'm not holding, brushes her chest and I frown as I make out the faint rise of the shirt where the locket I gave her rests. She smiles sweetly at me and shrugs her small shoulders, looking almost defeated.

"You just have to stay alive, Sam." She informs me. "I know you want to save that girl, but you probably can't. MaddiGrace is going to be safe… so you just have to promise to come back, okay?"

"I promise."

"Kat!" MaddiGrace's scream of joy has me pulling back quickly, but she doesn't notice. She bounds down the three steps and all but throws herself into Katzula's arms, completely oblivious to the bruising or the pained groan that flees from our friend. MaddiGrace clings to her for several drawn out moments before she pulls back, bouncing on the balls of her feet. "I'm so glad, I was so worried! Where have you been? What have you been doing? I missed you! Sammy is so grumpy… what happened to you?"

Katzula laughs as her eyes meet mine around MaddiGrace's body. The look in them almost breaks my heart as she looks back to my friend, blinking away the sadness and tears to paste on a cheery expression for MaddiGrace. But I just can't afford to feel anything for her right now. MaddiGrace is my only concern and that has been taken care of… which leaves me with… I frown. The girl from 4.

If I can't save Alexei, I'll do my best to get myself home.


	12. Chapter Ten - Katzula

_Chapter Ten_

_' "What you get is what you see,_

_It won't take much to get hooked on me." '_

Porcelain and the Tramps – _I'm Your Favourite Drug_.

_What am I doing?_

The words rebound inside her head as Katzula stares across the fountain at Sam. The night air is surprisingly crisp, almost bitter in its touch as it circulates around them. Sam is lost in his thoughts, completely oblivious to her watchful gaze, and for a moment, Katzula finds herself hoping that he is trying to find a way to survive in the arena.

"Kat," He lifts his eyes and she finds herself struck by just how blue they are. "I get that there's no way MaddiGrace can come back to 12…" She sighs quietly. It shouldn't surprise her that he's thinking about MaddiGrace – he's in love with her after all – but she can't ignore the slightly bitter taste in her mouth. "But… do I really have to leave the Capitol?"

"I doubt they'll let you stay." Katzula offers with a shrug. "I mean, what reason would you have that would please them? You can't exactly say '_I'm in love with MaddiGrace and she's alive and hidden under your noses_', can you?"

"There's not really a point in telling her I love her, then." He declares and Katzula watches the haunted look pass behind his eyes, those beautiful blue eyes. "If I tell her and I never get to see her again, it is probably better off if she doesn't know."

"What if she feels the same?" Katzula asked, her eyes holding his gaze.

"That would be worse." Sam mumbles as he climbs to his feet and moves to sit beside her. Katzula ignored the beat her heart skipped, the hitch of her breath. He was in love with someone else, after all, so there was really no point in acknowledging the insignificant things that made her human. "How could I leave her if she loved me the way I loved her?"

"It'll drive you crazy not knowing." Katzula shrugged. "You should tell her. At least that way she can understand why she's going to be ripped from her bed in the middle of the night and taken away."

"We should tell her." Sam frowns.

"No." Katzula turns to fully face him, catching his hands in her own. "We can't, Sam. It's better off this way. I would even suggest you tell your alliance that you won't be teaming up with MaddiGrace after all."

"I can't leave the Capitol girl replacing her to fend for herself…"

"You can't save everyone." Katzula's eyes lowered slightly as she cupped his face with both hands, holding it gently. "And if you keep trying to save everyone, Sam, then no one wins."

"Tertia will work it out, you know…"

Katzula let her hands fall, tucking them into her lap as she adjusted herself so she was sitting cross-legged on the stone bench they hadn't noticed until earlier that evening. Sam shifted slightly beside her, until his thigh bumped her bent knee. She caught her breath and glanced at him from the corner of her eye.

"How can you be so sure?"

"She just _knows_ things." He shrugged.

"Then let her." Katzula declared finally, her eyes hard. "By the time she does, then it really won't matter, will it? Everything will have already started and nothing can be changed."

…

"We have a problem, Kat."

Katzula's eyes lift warily from the pages of the magazine in front of her, her fingers tightening around the edges. For several long, fleeting moments Caine just watches her, judging her reaction, and then he sinks into the plush seat across from her.

"The girl wants out." Caine grunts. "And the interviews have been postponed."

"I suppose dying isn't as appealing as she thought?" Katzula laughs, but the sound is bitter. "When have they changed the interviews to?"

"Tomorrow night." He smiles sadly. "What are you going to tell the boy?"

"Sam?" Katzula's lips form his name and for a moment, the memory of their fleeting kiss resurfaces in her mind. Her cheeks colour warmly, growing steadily darker under Caine's curious observation, and she shrugs her shoulders. "Nothing."

"But MaddiGrace will be in that arena with him…"

"We can still do it, we just have to find someone else." Katzula snaps her magazine closed and reaches forward to dump it on the table between them, her eyes flicking to the blank screen off to her left. "They'll be back from training soon, so we had better begin their tutoring for how they should act."

"I already know who you're thinking of," Caine declared, his voice frosty. "And I will not go along with it."

"Have you decided what you're dressing Sam in?" Katzula ignored him, not even bringing herself to meet his eyes. She reached forward and flipped through the magazine again, stopping on a page full of photos of the tribute parade. "I don't think the cage look will work for his interview."

"Stop changing the subject, Katzula." Caine hissed. "I'm not going to watch…"

"I did not burn the room down!"

Katzula turned her head, fixing a smile to her face as MaddiGrace and Sam appeared, effectively silencing Caine's comment. He threw her a glare before he stormed off, retreating to his allocated room on their floor. MaddiGrace plonked herself into his empty seat, throwing her arms up.

"You've burnt your hair!" Sam snorted. "You reek of smoke!"

"I'm assuming it didn't go well?" Katzula queried, silencing the brewing disagreement. MaddiGrace huffed loudly and Katzula finally took in her appearance. The clothes she'd worn for training were singed and covered in ash. "MaddiGrace…?"

"She burnt the room." Sam offered as he dropped onto the large couch beside Katzula, propping his feet up on the table. "I heard the screaming."

"I did _not_!" MaddiGrace wailed, crossing her arms tightly over her chest.

"What did you do then?" He countered teasingly.

"That's none of your business!" MaddiGrace climbed to her feet. "I'm going to take a shower."

"How did you go?" Katzula asked when MaddiGrace had gone. Sam lifted his shoulders and dropped them in an uncertain shrug, his eyes darting to the magazine. "That bad?"

"They didn't seem impressed." He offered. "I just kind of stood there, throwing weapons at targets. I was going to try and use Tertia's trick, but I figured she'd already made me look like a fool."

"Tertia's trick?"

"She likes to spell words and stuff." He shrugged again, smiling. "With knives and arrows."

Katzula nodded. "I think I may have found a way to… to keep you in the Capitol."

His interest was obvious as he shifted, his full attention swinging to her. Katzula offered him a faint smile as she stared down at the open pages of the magazine, her eyes falling on the photograph of Sam and MaddiGrace in their chariot.

"Well?" He pushed.

"First, you need to tell MaddiGrace how you feel." Katzula replied, holding up a hand to silence him. He glared at her but said nothing. "I'll explain fully tomorrow, but there's hope, and that's something…"

"Better than nothing." He agreed.

"Interviews have been moved to tomorrow night." Katzula sighed. "So I was thinking that we should work a little more on how we want to present you. Of course, you're going to be the sweet big brother… but…"

"But…?"

She shook her head and they sat in silence for the next few hours. By the time MaddiGrace had appeared, the training scores were about to begin appearing. Sam looked positively bored as he sat there, listening to the presenter ramble on and on about how exciting it all was, but MaddiGrace was alternating between hiding her face in her hands and looking hopeful.

The pair from 1 both received an exceptional score of nine, which had MaddiGrace sucking in a deep breath and looking pained. Nero, the boy from 2, took a sweeping 10 which was bettered only by Tertia's 11. The girl from 3 took an eight, the boy a seven. Alexei received an exceptionally low three which had Sam shifting uncomfortably in his seat, which Tex swept a handsome nine.

District 5 received a five and a seven, 6 a four and an eight. The girl from 7 was a nice six while the large and impressive Atticus took an equally impressive 9. The girl from 8 scored a two, which had MaddiGrace looking slightly more hopeful and Sam rather confused, especially when her partner scored a six. Both from 9 took fives, while the girl from 10 received the same score as her district number – a ten. The boy was a hopeful six.

District 11 took a four and a five, which meant that Tertia had taken the best score – an eleven – and the girl from 8 had the lowest – a score of two. Which left only the scores of District 12's MaddiGrace Moore and Sam Holloway to come next.

"_And for the final scores of this evening, MaddiGrace Moore of District 12_…" There was a pause as MaddiGrace's picture appeared on the screen. It was a picture of her on Reaping day, Katzula noted, and as the picture was pushed slightly to the side, preparing for her training score to appear, there was an intake of breath from the presenters. "_You won't believe the score, ladies and gentlemen. MaddiGrace Moore has been given a _one…"

"What on Earth did you do!?" Caine demanded, making them all jump. MaddiGrace opened her mouth to say something in her defense, but Sam's picture had appeared on the screen.

"… _her district partner more than makes up for such a poor score with his, a nice round ten_."

Sam snapped off the television and all eyes fell on MaddiGrace. Her cheeks burnt brighter than the red shirt she'd changed into as she glared at the blank screen, arms crossed over her chest.

"You did burn the room down, didn't you?" Sam chuckled.

"Not _all_ of it!" MaddiGrace huffed, poking her tongue out. Caine roared with laughter and ruffled the top of her head before he perched on the arm of a chair beside her, his eyes twinkling. "It was an _accident_! I didn't mean to! I was just playing with the fire, trying to work out what I should do… and the stupid dummies caught on fire."

"Well done, sweetheart." Caine sniffed, dabbing at his eyes dramatically. "Well, at least Coralee won't have to worry about what you should act like."

"Oh?" Sam asked.

"We'll go for innocent and completely useless." Caine howled, beside himself. "They'll love her!"

"I am not _useless_!" MaddiGrace huffed.

This only doubled Caine's amusement at her low score and in an attempt to shut him up, MaddiGrace threw a magazine in his direction. It brushed over his head, barely touching the hairs on his scalp, and fluttered harmlessly down to the floor. Katzula bit her lip and Sam choked on his supressed laughter, but Caine seemed unable. In fact, his laughter was so intense that it sent him sprawling from the arm of his chair.

"Sure, kid." He breathed through his laughter-encouraged tears as he picked himself up. "You're a real killing machine."

MaddiGrace stormed off, her face a brilliant shade of red. Sam looked torn before he jumped to his feet and took off after her, leaving Katzula with a now sobered Caine, who perched himself opposite her and took her hands in hers.

"That was cruel." She informed the stylist, supressing the smile that threatened her. "MaddiGrace is a sweet girl."

"So are you." Caine replied softly, "You're making a mistake, Kat."

"No," She shook her head slowly. "I'm not. Neither of them deserves this."

"Saving her won't change anything…" He smiled sourly.

Katzula smiled back. "No, but at least it'll mean something."

…

"Sam," Katzula sucked in a shallow breath as she pulled him aside, her eyes wide.

She took a moment to drink in the sight of him, of how Caine had dressed him. He looked flawless, radiant, almost… like a god. She shook her head, trying to clear it, but there was something oddly intoxicating about him. His hair was stylishly messed, his skin flawless, his eyes seemingly bluer than blue.

The sleeves of his neat dress-shirt had been rolled up to his elbows, the thin and expensive material bunching and creasing. Several buttons had been undone, revealing a glimpse of his toned and tanned chest smattered with several dark hairs. Jeans, ash-coloured, hugged his long legs and a pair of dress shoes encased his feet. The mixed look of formal, but utterly comfortable and casual, left him looking perfect.

"Kat?" He cocked a brow. "Lost for words? I knew I was good, but really."

She rolled her eyes. "Did you tell MaddiGrace?"

"Not yet." He combed a hand through his hair, ignoring to shout he received from Caine. "After the interviews."

"Ugh." Katzula wrinkled her nose. "Fine, fine. I need to tell you how…"

"That's right." He grinned suddenly. "Your ingenious idea to keep us together."

"Tell them you're in love with me." Katzula wasn't sure he caught what she said because of how quickly it came out, and the deadpan look on his face. She winced and opened her mouth, preparing to force herself to repeat it, but Sam frowned.

"In love with you…" He muttered. "How will _that_ work?"

"Just… just _trust_ _me_." Katzula smiled weakly. "You've got to go. Hurry."

She watched as a Peacekeeper led him off, another guiding MaddiGrace, and then she turned to Caine. He slipped his arm through hers and together they headed for the front of the stage, where they would sit in the very first row of seats in front of it and watch as twenty-four children spent three minutes with Artemis Glo, the interviewer.

Artemis was a wonderful man. Katzula had met him multiple times at her father's many parties. The man looked as if he had fallen from a pastel rainbow, however, and in comparison to the normal and natural looking tributes, it was hard not to stare at him. Even tonight, in bright and odd Capitol couture, the tributes looked bleak and normal compared to the softly pastel rainbow.

Katzula barely heard the first two interviews. She probably would have missed the third, too, but as Artemis spoke the girl's name, she found herself forced to listen. Sam had spoken about her on multiple occasions; he had formed an alliance with her. It seemed _wrong_ to ignore her.

"So, Tertia…" Artemis smiled cheekily, his cheeks protruding at an odd angle. "How did you score the highest score of all? An eleven, how impressive!"

The girl from 2 smiles so sweetly that, for a moment, Katzula finds herself blown away. Tertia's stylist have outdone themselves. The girl radiates innocence which makes her eleven such a shocking score to believe when compared to the tiny, petite little thing sitting perfectly poised in the chair beside Artemis, her hands held softly in her lap.

"I really can't talk about it." Tertia replies sweetly, batting her eyelashes against her rosy cheeks. Her pink lips curl and she leans forward, like she's about to share with Artemis and the Capitol a secret. "But if I could, I would just love to tell you. I'm disappointed I can't tell you, I feel so at home here, like I'm surrounded with friends."

The crowd gushes over her, swooning over her little declaration and Katzula can't help but smile. She's good, effortlessly good. Tertia looks down, her lashes against her cheeks, and then up. There's the faintest sheen of tears coating her pretty eyes and she looks as if she's embarrassed by her declaration and on the verge of tears all at the same time.

"Can we talk about something else, Artemis?" She mutters and it is only because of the microphone hidden under her glorious curls of dark hair that anyone can hear her. Artemis looks at her, clearly confused, and she wets her lips a little nervously. "I'm going to ruin my makeup and Dante would be disappointed at me if I did…"

"Whatever is the matter, sweetheart?" Artemis looks honestly worried as he reaches over, plucking one of Tertia's small hands from her lap. Tertia blushes and looks away from him, away from the crowd. The silence is deafening as everyone waits, breaths held, for the girl from 2 to answer his question. She shakes her head and sniffles dramatically. "Oh, dear girl, you can tell me, tell us."

"I'm scared…" She looks at him, her eyes wide. She blinks several times quickly and several tears escape her eyes, rolling delicately down her cheeks and off of her jawline. They reflect the light as they patter down, disappearing into the flowing material of her dress. "I'm scared that I'll never see any… any of…"

She shakes her head and fiddles with the material of her floor-length dress. She smooths her free hand over it, her fingers curling delicately over the material as she lifts her gaze softly, meeting Artemis' waiting eyes.

"What are you afraid you won't see, sweetheart?" He reaches out with the hand that isn't holding hers and gently brushes the tears away from her cheeks, blending her makeup back to perfection.

"My friends," She speaks quietly. "My friends here, and my friends back home. I'm scared I'll…" She cuts herself off again, her eyes dancing over the faces in the crowd. She hesitates and then looks back to Artemis. "I'm scared I'll never fall in love, too."

"You don't have a boyfriend back at home?" Artemis looks surprised. "No special boy waiting for you?"

She shakes her head, no. "I… I liked one boy, once, but he wasn't very nice. And now I'm… I'm in the Games and I might not be able to win."

"But your score of eleven – that's better than any of the other scores – so I'm just positive you'll be able to go home and fall in love, my dear." Artemis strokes the back of her hand. "Keep your chin up, you'll be home in no time."

Tertia smiles at him. "I hope so."

The buzzer sounds and Artemis rises, helping Tertia to her feet. The crowd all but cries as she curtsies them, holding her flowing dress of ivory away from the floor. She holds lightly to Artemis' hand for a little longer than necessary before she rises to the tips of her toes and places a kiss of his cheek. Her cheeks flame red as she waves once to the crowd before she hurries off the stage, taking with her the rays of angelic innocence that halo her as she goes and Nero appears.

"Sam'll have troubles if he can't make as much of an impression as that girl just did." Caine grunted, his eyes nervous. Katzula nodded and found his hand, giving it a soft squeeze.

The girl from 4 made the crowd cry and call out in disgust as she appeared. She was so small, so fragile, and so broken that it was hard not to feel sorry for her. She spoke quietly, nervously, about home and her family, about everything she liked about the Capitol. By the time she was led off stage and her district partner, Tex, appeared, the crowd was hard to quieten so that the handsome boy could talk.

"So, Tex, are you going to be helping out little Alexei in the arena?" Artemis asks the handsome boy as he arranges himself in his seat. Tex hesitates before he shakes his head, which creates a ripple of outrage through the crowd. Artemis waits patiently, although looking a little disgusted, until the crowd is quiet. "Why not?"

"Well, Artemis," Tex looks awkwardly down. "I don't think I could protect her – not the way she needs to be – and she has made friends with some of the other tributes. I'm certain they'll be able to look after her better than I."

"Which tributes?" Artemis asks, his curiosity spiked.

"The girl from 2, the boy from 7, and the… pair from 12." Tex bites his lip. "I know they'll be able to help her."

A murmur sparks through the crowd, but Artemis holds up his hand and it dies. "Why haven't you joined with them to help her?"

"Honestly, I'm a coward." He blushed. "I don't want to see anything happen to her, or to…"

"Or to?" Artemis prodded.

"Well, this is a little awkward…" Tex scratched his chin as the crowd of Capitol citizens waited. "But the girl from 12… MaddiGrace."

"The girl with the lowest score…" Artemis murmured and Tex nodded, despite the fact it wasn't a question. "Do you have feelings for this girl?"

"I haven't known her very long, but I feel that we've gotten quite close." Tex smiled slightly, his eye flickering over the crowd. "I do think I could have fallen in love with her, yes, and I believe that I may have even wanted to marry her… but I guess the odds aren't in my favour, are they?"

"It doesn't seem it." Artemis agreed. "Does she feel the same?"

"I'm not sure." Tex had the good grace to look nervous, and slightly ashamed. "I haven't told her I like her yet. I wasn't going to tell anyone…"

Artemis and Tex spend the last minute talking about MaddiGrace and Tex before the buzzer sounds and Tex walks off, smiling and waving, completely winning over the Capitol. Katzula inhaled in annoyance, her arms crossed over her chest. Either this would hinder or help Sam, she wasn't certain, but by the time MaddiGrace stepped onto the stage, she was very nearly ready to tear her hair from her head.

"Now, sweetheart, do you prefer to be called Maddi or MaddiGrace?" Artemis asked as MaddiGrace dropped into her seat, smoothing out her knee-length yellow dress. She swiped a curl over her shoulder and threw him a bashful smile.

"MaddiGrace, sir."

"Sir? How formal!" Artemis laughed. "But Artemis is just fine." He patted her knee and MaddiGrace threw another award-winning smile. "Do you have anything that you can tell us with regards to your low score?"

"I'm… I'm not allowed to, am I?" MaddiGrace frowned softly, her eyes looking concerned. "I'll get in trouble, and you will, too, and I don't want to get anyone in trouble."

"It's okay, MaddiGrace, we can always talk about something else…" Artemis trailed off.

"I just want you to know, before we do, that it is an unfair score." MaddiGrace declared, puffing out her chest slightly. She crossed her arms over her chest and deepened her frown, trying her best to look angry. There was a gentle wave of laughter as the crowd watched the girl with the score of one. "I deserved much more than that!"

"What would you have scored yourself, if you could have?" Artemis asked, amused.

"Twelve, of course!" MaddiGrace stared blankly at him, like it was obvious. She seemed to realise what she'd said, however, and dramatically clapped her hands over her mouth, eyes wide. Laughter washed over the Capitol, loud and boisterous as they drank in the strange girl from 12. "Sorry…"

"It's okay, dear." Artemis smiled at her, chuckling softly. MaddiGrace looked embarrassed as she folded her hands in her lap, looking out at the Capitol. "Well, you must have heard the declaration from Tex – how do you feel about him?"

MaddiGrace wrinkled her nose, deep in through. "Who?"

"Tex Houston…" Artemis frowned at her. "The boy from 4?"

"Oh!" MaddiGrace nodded. "Yes, I remember him now."

Some of the crowd laughed, some looked upset as an image of Tex's surprised face flashed on the screen behind MaddiGrace. He looked hurt, at least until he saw his own reflection. Then he shrugged his shoulders and offered a faint, lopsided smile.

"You don't like him?" Artemis asked.

"He's okay." MaddiGrace shrugged. "But I'm too young for a boyfriend, and my big brother would kill him, anyways." MaddiGrace blinked. "And he's too pretty. Don't you know the rules of dating, Arty?"

"No," Artemis frowned. "I don't think I don't."

"Oh." MaddiGrace nodded. "Well… I guess I'm not the only one with a low score."

Artemis laughed loudly. "Will you tell me the rules of dating, MaddiGrace?"

"I guess." She nodded. "Well, firstly, you never date someone who is prettier than you. It means they'll be too busy looking at themselves and not give you enough attention." She bit her lip. "I thought it was obvious."

"I'll be sure to remember that." Artemis smiled. "Would you date me, MaddiGrace?"

"Oh, no." She shook her head. "You're far too pretty. And you clash. Look at what I'm wearing," She stands and gives a quick twirl, causing the skirt of her dress to flair around her. When she stops, the skirt of the knee-length dress falls in its messy, choppy layers of lacy material around her skinny legs. "You're too colourful. It would look all _wrong_."

"Yes, yes," Artemis nods. "I do suppose you're right. Are they… _bugs_… on your dress?"

MaddiGrace's eyes grow wide. "Where!?" She squeaks, spinning again. Artemis laughs and catches a hold of her, keeping her still as he points out the small flowers and fake bugs – butterflies and lady birds – woven into the lace of her dress. MaddiGrace lets out a deep, shaky breath and turns bright red. "Oh, yes. You had me scared."

"You don't like bugs?"

"No." MaddiGrace sinks into her seat.

Artemis frowns slightly and MaddiGrace smiles at him. "Well, uh…" He nods. "You said you had a brother…?"

"Sammy. Little Sammy…" She grins, all but bouncing in her seat. "He's _not_ _really_ my brother, but everyone calls us The Twins. We were born on the same day and we live on the same street, literally across the road from each other._ I'm_ five minutes older."

"So you're close?"

"Of course! He's like my…" The buzzer interrupts her and MaddiGrace climbs to her feet, ignoring the disappointed shrieks from the crowd. "Sorry. I'm out of time. Thanks, Arty." She kisses Artemis' cheek and skips off, waving. "I love you all!"

Sam is laughing as he steps on the stage. Katzula's breath hitches in her throat as his eyes meet hers before she looks away, shaking Artemis' hand and lowering himself into the seat beside the host. Caine's hand found hers and he gripped her hand tightly, interlocking their fingers. Katzula threw him a weak, thankful smile and resumed staring at Sam.

"So, your friend is a little odd." Artemis smiled as Sam heartily agreed. "What do you think of her score?"

"She wouldn't tell me what she did…" Sam frowned deeply. "But she's _extremely clumsy_, so it wouldn't surprise me if she accidentally set the place on fire or something…"

"What is he doing?" Caine hissed.

"Well." Artemis sighs dramatically. "I wish we had access to what you all did during your private sessions."

"They wouldn't really be _private_ then, though." Sam teases.

"You're very much right." Artemis agreed. "How have you been enjoying the Capitol, Sam?"

"It's been interesting." He answered.

"Interesting in a good or a bad way?" Artemis questioned.

"I found a reason to win the games…" Sam shrugged.

"That's wonderful!" Artemis beamed at him and Sam offered a shrug of his shoulders as a response, his blue eyes finding Katzula. She nodded faintly, fixing a smile to her lips. She knew what was coming, knew how she should act. "So, what is your wonderful reason, Sam?"

"I met the most amazing girl…" He trailed off.

"Oh? Is she back home?" Artemis prodded.

"No, no. She actually came here with me, been with me since I got here, since I left my district…" Sam smiled slightly, looking Artemis in the eye. "She's truly something else."

"MaddiGrace?"

Sam laughed. "No, no. My…" He flushed. "Katzula… my escort."

There was a collective gasp from the Capitol crowd and sensing the moment was now, Katzula felt her cheeks darken as she slipped slightly lower in her seat, her eyes fixed to her knees as the faintest of smiles played over her lips. She could feel eyes on her, feel Caine's hand on her shoulder, sense the cameras watching her. When she finally dared to look up, she met Sam's eyes and caught sight of herself in the screen behind him.

"She is quite lovely, isn't she?" Artemis agreed and Katzula felt her cheeks darken even more as Sam nodded, his eyes fixed on hers. "She's been quite the spark of conversation recently, too. A Gamemakers daughter, an escort for District 12… and her crazy change in fashion… what sparked it, do you know?"

Sam shrugged. He didn't even look at Artemis as he began to speak, his eyes soft and his lips curled into a gentle smile. "No, but she's gorgeous anyway. And actually, I think she's much prettier without the makeup and the crazy clothes and hair. Don't you?"

Artemis opened and closed his mouth. "Well, yes, I suppose."

"Just keep your hands off," Sam ordered, his eyes leaving Katzula's. She frowned as she watched him, his face dark despite the playful smile crossing his lips. "She's mine."

The Capitol laughed. Artemis laughed. And then the buzzer went off and Sam was forced from the stage. Tomorrow, Sam would be up against twenty-three other tributes desperate to get home. Some of them willing to kill. Some of them willing to do whatever it took to get home.

Would MaddiGrace being alive and well, safe from harm, be enough to make Sam into one of those who were willing to do whatever it took to come back alive?

Katzula could only hope it was.


	13. Chapter Eleven

_Chapter Eleven_

_' "So don't ask me where I'll go,_

_'Cause frankly, I don't know, and I don't give a shit." '_

Hayley Williams – _Teenagers_.

"Now, canons will go off every time a tribute dies." Caine rambled as he forced a piece of toast into my hands, stripping me as I ate and drunk. My stomach churned as I glanced around the stone room I was in, at the glass coffin that would send me to my death. "The cornucopia is a trap. It's full of weapons and… and supplies, but they want you to go for it, to fight. It'll be a mess."

He grabs my ankle hard and pulls it upwards, almost knocking me flying. Both of my feet are stuffed into heavy boots that rise to midway up my calves, trapping the thin material of the black tight-like pants that hug my legs. He laces the boots hurriedly, his fingers a blur as I munch the toast I'm given. As soon as I've finished that slice, he thrusts another into my hands.

"I don't know what you're up against, but you should run as far away as possible, Sam." He huffs as he stands, taking the toast and cup of water I'd forgotten he gave me. He sets them aside and shoves me into a tight-fitting black, long-sleeved shirt. Over that he places a short-sleeved cotton one of the same colour. Next, he forces me into a heavy black jacket. He shoves the toast and water back into my hand. "Drink, eat. You don't know when you'll get the chance."

I glare at him, but I'm partially thankful. He snaps a belt around my waist and straightens, looking slightly pleased with himself. He fishes something from his pocket and I stare at it for a moment, trying to place the thin silver band he clasps around my wrist. There's a silver bar, flat and slightly wider than the thing chain, which has been engraved with curly writing.

I have to squint to read it, the words so small, but I smile confusedly as I reconignise it.

'Find something to fight for, to live for… to die for… and don't ever let it go…'

"What is it?" I frown.

"Katzula had it made for you, it's your token." He shrugged as he snatched my toast and water away, pushing me toward the glass tube. "Come on, you don't have long now…"

"Where is Kat?" I ask, suddenly worried. Surely she would have been here to see me off?

"She…" Caine glares at me as he stuffs me into the tube. I make to move out of it, but he blocks the tiny entrance. "She couldn't make it. Trying to get you sponsored."

I nod, but it stings. I don't care about sponsors. I wanted to see her, to thank her for everything, but… I shake the thought away and glance at Caine. He takes an uncomfortable step back and holds my gaze with holds. He doesn't seem happy with me, I realise, but I don't have time to ponder it.

"Thanks." I grunt. "For everything. And can you…" I hesitate. "Thank Kat for me…?"

"Thank her yourself." He practically growls.

I don't have time to ask him what his problem is because the glass that had previously been absent rises, cutting me off from the stone room and my stylist. I slam my hands into it agitatedly, but the floor beneath me rumbles and begins to rise.

"WAIT SIXTY SECONDS!" Caine bellows, his voice faint. I frown. "WAIT SIXTY SECONDS!"

I nod, confused, but soon I'm surrounded by a darkness so unnatural and thick that I can't seem a damned thing. I tilt my head back, looking for the end, but it seems like the darkness goes on forever. I thank my lucky stars when I'm assaulted by light so bright that I have to squint. The platform beneath my feet stops, the glass encasing me falls away, and the smell of fresh air assaults me. I stumble and force myself to freeze.

When I can see again, the first thing I notice is the golden Cornucopia towering above me, blocking my view of half the tributes. I look around, my eyes fixing on those closest to me. All of us are in a large ring around the golden Cornucopia, spaced so far apart that it's a good hundred metres in front of us. Weapons of all varieties tumble from the mouth. Crates and parcels… God knows how much actually sits inside it, but it spills out for a short distance, the items growing less impressive the further from the mouth of the Cornucopia they get.

Letting my eyes leave the supplies, I look around a little more. Just behind the Cornucopia is a wasteland of dried earth and smouldering rubble. It actually looks like someone dropped a bomb on whatever had sat there previously. Craters dig deep into the earth, bits of buildings stand half-formed… it reminds me of the footage of District 13 we saw at the… I frown.

District 13. Could this really be District 13?

Thick woods flank the rest of the area around the ruins, almost like a cage. I don't turn, don't move from my platform, but I crane my neck behind me in an attempt to see what's back there. I wobble uncertainly and stop, deciding instead to try and find my alliance.

I find Tertia first. Her lips are set and she posed ready to take off, her eyes staring deep into the mouth of the Cornucopia. MaddiGrace – no, the girl who is pretending to be MaddiGrace – is staring around her, looking panicked and frightened. I shake my head and find Atticus next. He meets my gaze and nods briefly at the Cornucopia and then the woods.

_Grab and run?_ I mouth at him and he nods, his eyes darting to Tertia. She tilts her head and shoots him a frown, which he responds with a cheerful grin. I find Alexei and almost take a step forward. She is sobbing quietly, her eyes staring at the tributes around her. She's been positioned closest to Nero and though he is ignoring her, I can see how tense he is. I follow his gaze and find it on Tertia. I shudder and look back to MaddiGrace at the same moment an explosion tears all thoughts from my head and leaves my ears ringing.

Three more explosions follow, and then a fourth. Five explosions tear chunks in the ground and send blood and pieces of bodies flying as I freeze, wavering on my platform. I rub my ears, trying to restore proper hearing, but it seems pointless. I look worriedly around, trying to see my alliance. Tertia and the girl who is MaddiGrace are both fine. Atticus, too… Alexei…

Alexei's arms are cartwheeling desperately, trying to keep herself balanced. Pure fear radiates from her tiny face as she teeters on the edge of falling forward, off the platform that has clearly been rigged to blow her sky high is she moves to early.

"Alexei, no!" I scream, barely hearing myself. Her eyes are wide and tears streak her pale face as she stumbles and falls, at the same moment a canon fire explodes overhead and everyone freezes. Alexei's scream paralyses me as she falls, landing face-first on the ground just in front of her platform, her tiny body quivering.

Tertia is the first to click on, the first to move. She streaks from her platform and straight for the mouth of the Cornucopia, weaving through the items she doesn't want or feel she needs right now, heading for the better and probably more expensive goodies. I don't have time to watch her, though, because Nero has decided to move and the girl from 3 is heading toward Alexei, who cowers on the ground.

I take off, racing toward the fallen girl. The girl from 3 is on top of her before I can get there, her hands closed around Alexei's tiny throat. 3 pins her there, using her bigger body to keep the small girl stuck. Alexei's legs kick desperately, her fingers digging inside the dirt beneath her, but it's useless.

I'm almost reach them when the girl from 3 tumbles to one side, a knife embedded in the back of her skull. I leap and knock her the rest of the way from the small girl, rolling onto her dead body and them off of it, disgust filling my stomach. Alexei gags uselessly, her small hands clutching at her throat as her eyes bludge and tears slip unhindered down the sides of her face.

"God, forgive me," I hiss as I reef the knife from the back of the girl from 3's head. The sound that reaches my eyes is sickening, disgusting, and I almost bring up the water and toast I'd eaten. Instead, I grab hold of Alexei and haul her to my feet, staring around us desperately for MaddiGrace.

She's still standing on the platform, her face pale, horror written across it. She stumbles and I watch as she collapses to her knees, bringing up whatever she managed to stomach this morning. I spot the boy from 8 approaching my fallen friend and before I can think twice, I hurl the knife I'd pulled from the girl from 3's head and watch as it embeds itself in his chest.

A broken branch falls from his hands and MaddiGrace jumps, twisting her fallen body to watch as the boy crumples to the ground, clutching his chest and coughing blood. I can barely breathe as I haul Alexei along behind me, dragging her toward MaddiGrace.

"Sam!" Tears stream down the girl's cheeks as she clambers to her feet, throwing herself into my arms. It catches me by surprise and I stumble slightly, almost knocking Alexei off her feet. I guess this girl and I were still playing the role of best friends… I shrug and step back, examining her.

"We have to go." I grunt, glancing around us. Tertia and Atticus are back there, at the Cornucopia somewhere. I shudder and reef my blade from the boy's chest, wiping it on my leg. Alexei trembles at my side as I stuff it between my belt and pants. "Come on. Trees. Let's go."

"But Atticus…" Alexei whimpers brokenly.

"He'll catch up." I promise.

I have to keep my pace slower to ensure neither of the girls fall behind. Normally, MaddiGrace and I have running races – which she rarely wins through fear of ruining her appearance – but the girl who has replaced MaddiGrace seems to be the kind of girl who could run forever, which catches me by surprise. She's a _Capitol_ girl, she has no need to run. Well, she didn't…

We jerk to a stop when the canons start. I count them as they sound. Eleven… that's almost half of us gone in less than half an hour. I shudder and look behind me, searching the woods we've run blindly into, wondering if Atticus and Tertia are alright. Tertia had the highest score, so that probably meant everyone was targeting her, and Atticus… I shuddered and started walking, my stomach churning.

"We have to go back." Alexei whimpered at my side, her hand in mine. "We have to find Atticus."

"We can't." I inform her as I pull her along the path beneath our feet, listening. It was strangely quiet around us. I had never set foot inside the forest behind the meadow outside of District 12, but I had always thought it would be a noisy place. Birds and animals. All sorts of noises. But the woods we were walking through now were as silent as anything.

"How will they find us?" Alexei questions, her lower lip trembling. I stop dead in my track and turn to face her, trying to school my features into something comforting. She looks up at me and lifts her arms up, waiting. I pick her up slowly, letting her legs wrap around my waist. "I… I'm scared."

"It'll be okay." I promise her quietly. "We'll find somewhere to hide and then I'll go and find them, okay? I'll go and find Atticus and Tertia and bring them back."

She nods and buries her face in my shoulder. I carry her for as long as I can, until I can literally stand her weight no longer. When I put her down, she slips her hand into mine and we start walking again. I listen carefully, but I can't hear a sound other than our footsteps. No animal noises. No sounds of the other tributes. Not even the sound of water.

"Sam…" The sound of MaddiGrace's voice stops me in my tracks. Whoever this Capitol girl is, she's good, I note as I look at her. She sounds just like my friend, looks just like her. If I didn't know better, I would have thought it _was_ MaddiGrace. "Sam, we need to find water."

"You read my mind." I chuckle humourlessly.

It's like the Gods are smiling down on us. In less than twenty minutes, we stumble into the most beautiful clearing I've ever seen – not that I actually have any to compare it to. It reminds me of the rooftop garden of the Training Centre, where Katzula… I shake my head as I glance around. There's a small cave at the far side, made up of large rocks, and just off to the left of it is a glorious pool of water. _Running_ water. A stream that winds away into the trees.

"Maybe we should thank the Gamemakers." I mutter as we stop just outside of the clearing, glancing around the grass and flower filled space. MaddiGrace smiles faintly and is the first to step inside. "MG, wait!"

She freezes, glancing back at us. "What?"

I wait, but nothing happens. She rolls her eyes and makes her way over to the pool of water, falling to her knees beside it. She cups her hands and drinks greedily, desperately, and soon Alexei and I are beside her, drinking just as desperately from the gorgeous stream.

After we've drunk as much as we can handle, we move to the cave. Alexei stands hesitantly at the mouth of the cave while I poke around inside, surprised by just how deep it seems. It seems almost endless, really, but I stumble onto the back wall quickly enough. As a precaution, MaddiGrace waits with Alexei, keeping watch over the small girl.

"Come on in, girls." I call cheerfully enough, heading back toward the open mouth. MaddiGrace, holding tightly to Alexei's hand, appears first. She's partially crouched and by the time they reach the slight bend, both girls are crawling on hands and knees. I lead them right to the back before I stop. "Alright, I'm going to suggest you both stay here, really quietly, and I'll go find Atticus and Tertia."

"Can't we come?" Alexei whines.

"I don't think so." I smile at her and slip the knife from my belt, placing it carefully into MaddiGrace's hands. She looks at it, at the blade stained on its tip, and then at me. "Just in case." I tell her as I head back for the opening, both girls following. "Stay hidden."

"I don't think this is a good idea." Again, her voice surprises me with how alike it is to my best-friend's, but I say nothing. I can't exactly say anything. We're bound to be being watched. It would get Katzula in a lot of trouble if I blurted out that this wasn't MaddiGrace. "I really don't, Sam."

"Look, I won't be long." I promise. "I'll be back as soon as I find Tertia and Atticus, and then we'll all be together and we can find somewhere safe to hole up in for a while."

"Can't we all go?" Alexei tries again.

"Atticus would kill me." It isn't a complete lie, I realise, but Alexei doesn't seem to realise it. She smiles at the mention of the guy who was putting everything behind him just to make sure she was okay, to make sure she went home. I ruffle her hair and take a mouthful of water from the stream. "Be careful, both of you. I'll be back when I can."

I stick to the trail that we followed when I leave. I walk, in no mood to rush. The likelihood of finding either Tertia or Atticus seems dim, but the chance of stumbling onto another tribute is highly possible. I shrug out of my jacket and manage to tie the bulky thing around my waist, forcing the sleeves up of the silky undershirt in an attempt to cool me down. Once more, the quiet of the forest unnerves me and I almost turn and head back to where I left Alexei and MaddiGrace.

Hell, for all I know, they're both _dead_.

The thought chills me and for a moment, I find myself standing in the middle of the path, unable to move. When I do move again, it's cautious and slow. Something doesn't feel _right_. I can't exactly explain it. The hairs on the back of my neck stand on edge and my stomach is in knots. My palms sweat and I find myself jumping at every non-existent noise my mind throws at me. I feel like I'm being watched – and not just by Capitol cameras.

I break into a jog, needing desperately to relieve some of the nervous energy flooding my limbs. The longer I move, the further I seem to travel, the stronger my unease gets. My hand flutters anxiously to where the knife had been only to find empty space. I almost curse myself as my mind helpfully reminds me that I left it behind, with Alexei and MaddiGrace. I all but growl as I force myself to keep jogging, my eyes scanning the sides of the path for some sort of weapon, every beat of my heart pained with fear.

An unearthly snarl fills the air and I jerk to a stop, spinning in all directions. The sound starts again, rumbling louder and louder with every snarl while I stand there like a moron, trying to pinpoint the location of the snarler. It's virtually impossible. Every time I turn around, thinking the sound is in front of me, it seems to come from behind me. Every time I turn to face it, it is off to my left or right.

Like it's _playing with me_…

I stop looking for the noise and start looking for something – _anything_ – I can use as a weapon. Apart from a few small twigs and a handful of stones and scattered leaves, there's nothing at all useful here. Panic bubbles unhelpfully in my chest as a snarl so loud I'm forced to cover my ears hits me. This time, it seems to come for everywhere and nowhere, all at once.

I take a few steps back in the direction I'd come from, back where I'd left Alexei and MaddiGrace, and the beast appears from the bushes. It snarls viciously and stalks forward, burning amber eyes locked onto my face.

It looks like a bear. At least, partly. It stands on all four legs like a dog or cat would, but it has the head and paws of a bear – only magnified. They're ten times bigger than they should be. Large, hooked antlers tear from its head, bits of clothing stuck to jutting pieces of bone-like ivory. I have a feeling that the bear-muttation is only on all four legs because of the antlers.

For several moments, I stare stupidly at the mutt (_muttation, a creature or creatures genetically spliced and manufactured by the Capitol, most of which were used during the rebellion as weapons against the rebels_) as it sways, amber eyes pinned on me. My eyes find a ragged hole in its shoulder and I almost smile. Almost. Blood drips from the wound and onto the floor and I hope that whoever met the mutt before I did was able to get away.

"Don't suppose you'll turn a blind eye and walk away, huh?" I murmur to the mutt. It growls at me and stalks forward, seemingly uncertain. I sigh. "Yeah, thought as much."

The mutt takes another step forward and I spin, legging it. The big beast lumbers after me, snarling, but it seems to be mostly uninterested in actually catching me. I sprint regardless, not in the mood to find out just how generous the Capitol's beast feels.

I can see the wasteland through the trees and hope spurs in my stomach as I force myself to keep going. My breath wheezes in my throat as I dart for the opening, hoping beyond hope that I can somehow make it to the Cornucopia and… I don't know. And I don't have time to work out what I would do, either, as my foot catches a root and I plummet forward, face-planting the rough earth of the path.

Somehow, I roll onto my back and scramble half upright before the mutt is on me. Its heavy antlers crash into my chest and force me back down, until I'm literally pinned at its mercy. It growls and snaps at me, seeming intent on tearing me apart with its mouth, but those obnoxiously large antlers prevent it from ever wrapping its over-sized mouth around me. Instead, the antlers hit the ground and it snaps at the air just above my legs or body, leaving me rolling and shifting to keep the antlers from doing any damage.

I almost laugh. Almost. It's quite hysterical, really, hilarious in a way that only someone about to die by would understand. The beast that is so intent on killing me is actually being hindered by something that was probably designed to make it more lethal. I surprise myself when I hear laughter and realise it is coming from me. My brief moment in surprise lands me a blow from the edge of the mutt's antlers, which grazes my arm.

"_What the hell are_ _you doing here_!?"

Looking back would probably kill me, I realise, so I don't. _I_ _don't_ _need_ _to_. I _know_ who is there, somewhere, watching me being tormented by the monster of the Capitol. I dodge another of the antler blows, listening to the beast growing steadily enraged. I snuff the laughter before it surfaces again, but I hope to God the Capitol realise how stupid this mutt of theirs makes them look.

"Tertia…" I finally call, after another close-miss. "Can you _kill _this thing? _Please_?"

"Sure, 12." She snorts. "Whatever you want."

The blade she throws penetrates the mutt's eye, going deep inside until only a tiny part of the hilt is visible. The beast utters a deathly roar before it ceases movement, slumping to the earth with a heavy thud. Its antlers stop it from slipping down completely, which gives me just enough time to scuttle back and out of the way before it collapses entirely. Large hands snag me around the upper arms and haul me up and I spin, my eyes landing on Atticus.

"Where are the others?" Atticus demands, face hard. "Alexei…?"

"Fine, fine." I shake my head and inspect my arm. It's deep, but I'll live. Tertia tears a chunk from her shirt and bandages me up quickly, her eyes hard as she works. She steps back, inspecting me closely. "We waited for you guys… but when you never showed… the only way I could get Alexei to calm was by coming to find you. But they're safe."

"She's really okay?" Atticus cocks a brow.

"She was when I left." I shrug and turn back to the beast, struggling to remove the blade from the mutt's head. I finally succeed and I wipe it off on the bear-muttation's fear, slipping it into my belt once most of the blood had been wiped off. "What have you two been doing?"

Tertia glares at Atticus. "We were arguing." She states bluntly. "We couldn't agree on which way you guys took off, so we've been trying to decide how to find you. Clearly, you found us first."

"You've been here the entire time?" I frown. "Where are the others?"

"Hunting." Atticus shrugged. "The pair from 1, her partner, the boys from 3 and 4 will be back soon enough, I reckon." He throws a cautious look over his shoulder. "We should grab what we can, while we can."

The three of us hurry to the Cornucopia, where we snag as much as we can. We fill four backpacks completely – one will be given to MaddiGrace to carry – with food and bottles, including several sleeping blankets and two boxes of first aid equipment. I find another set of throwing knives and even a large sword and strap both to my waist. Once we're stocked with food and weapons, and various other things we haven't had the time to fully check out, we hurry into the forest and follow the path.

The body of the mutt is gone and part of me worries over it as we walk. We don't talk, but it isn't an uncomfortable silence. We're frightened, hungry, tired and thirsty and all we want to do is go home. All of us. The knowledge that only one of us can will eventually become the only thought in our head, but for now, surviving each day is what matters.

"Who died?" I finally ask, unable to handle the unnatural quiet between us and the forest.

They're silent for a moment, clearly trying to think. I already know the boy from 8 went down, as well as the girl from 3, but as for the others… I shudder.

"5… both of them." Atticus finally mutters. "The platforms took them out, as well as both from 9."

"I think the girl from 6 died from the platforms, too." Tertia added. "I killed the girl from 3… and both… 11."

"The girl from 10, the boy from 6. That Tex kid took them out." Atticus adds, as an afterthought.

"And the boy from 8." I finally mutter, feeling my stomach churn. "I thought the pair from 1 would have…"

"They tried. For a while they tried to knock out Tertia." Atticus throws her a faint smile and she glares pointedly. "Probably would have killed her, but I intervened." He puffs out his chest and we continue on walking. "You owe me."

"Doubt it." Tertia snorts. "I saved your arse from Nero, didn't I?"

"Hardly!" Atticus teases. "I had him handled. If anything, you and your little knives got in the way."

"Ha!" Tertia laughs. "He was about to slit your throat until I hit him in the arm."

I tune them out after a while, smiling slightly. They were reliving their fight, the desperate battle for their lives, and although they weren't making fun of anyone or the situation, I didn't have the heart to listen to how many times they both came close to dying or killing. They were both killers already. And I suppose I was, too.

The clearing arrives all too soon and I'm glad. I call out to MaddiGrace and Alexei as Atticus and Tertia finally fall quiet, their playful banter over with for the moment. Both girls appear, their faces masks of fear and worry. They relax quickly enough and Alexei bounds across the clearing, straight into Atticus' waiting arms. He drops the two packs he carries and lifts her, spinning her around and laughing as she clings to him.

"Let's see what we've got." Tertia offers as we haul the bags Atticus drops further into the clearing, toward the stream and the cave. MaddiGrace steps forward, taking one from Tertia, and the three of us dump the contents out beside the stream.

"We should sort them out evenly." MaddiGrace murmurs as she gathers every canister and canteen – anything with a lid that can carry water, actually – and heads to fill them up at the stream. "That way it doesn't matter if we're forced to split up."

"Sounds like a good idea." Tertia agrees.

Slowly, we muddle our way through our supplies. There are four sleeping bags, twelve containers of water, a handful of smoked meats and plenty of canned food. Our two first aid supplies, which we can't really split four ways, and a handful of fire starters and other less important things.

By the time we've repacked the bags it is almost dark. We stuff the bags near the mouth of the cave; the sleeping bags rolled but left out, left deeper in the cave. We eat a mixture of smoked pork and bread rolls and sip from our water as we examine the weapons we collected.

Tertia and I divide the throwing knives amongst us, fashioning our belts to hold them more effectively. Atticus claims a long and nasty looking pair of hooked blades that I shudder at. MaddiGrace snaps up a knife that she slips into her boot and attaches a small mace to her belt from a bit of rope we'd found in one of the packs. Apart from a small hammer and what reminded me of a dart gun, we had nothing else of us.

To the surprise of everyone, Alexei took the dart gun before we could stop her. Atticus didn't seem happy, but he gave in quickly enough and we were all armed. Armed and… deadly, I suppose. When the sky turned fully dark, Panem's anthem began to play and then the faces of the fallen tributes filled the sky.

**Deceased Tributes**

**District 3** Female (_Tertia_)

**District 5** Female (_platform_)

**District 5** Male (_platform_)

**District 6** Female (_platform_)

**District 6** Male (_Tex_)

**District 8** Male (_Sam_)

**District 9** Female (_platform_)

**District 9** Male (_platform_)

**District 10** Female (_Tex_)

**District 11** Female (_Tertia_)

**District 11** Male (_Tertia_)


	14. Chapter Twelve

_Chapter Twelve_

_' "Forgot what it's like to just feel okay,_

_Praying for the day when there is no more rain…" '_

Alexx Calise – _Cry_.

"So," Atticus declares as our third day in the arena begins. Yesterday had been uneventful and while we had thoroughly enjoyed it, safely hidden in our corner of the forest, we knew that it couldn't last. Today, we planned on following the stream and finding somewhere else. "Are you really in love with your escort?"

I hesitate, throwing a look at the three sleeping girls. MaddiGrace is buried deep in her sleeping bag, alone, while Tertia has her arms wrapped around little Alexei. Her back is to me, but the stillness of her suggests that she's awake and listening. I glare at her back for a moment before I look back at Atticus, huddled deep in his own sleeping bag.

"Sure." I nod finally, my fingers skipping over my empty waist. Atticus and I had taken the morning watch for our two days of being here, letting the girls take the evenings seemed the best idea. Except that Tertia seemed to have little ability to sleep for long periods of time. "She's pretty special."

"Must be." He mutters, and I'm not completely sure if he's disgusted with me or not. I don't particularly care, either. My story about being in love with Katzula is just that – a story – but I can't turn around and say that it isn't real. Not here. Not now. Not ever. If it means I can stay with MaddiGrace in the Capitol, I'll go to the grave proclaiming my love for the Capitol girl. "Is that why she changed her look?"

I laugh. "I don't know why she did that." I sober as Tertia stretches carefully around the small bundle inside the sleeping bag with her. She eases herself into an upright position, throwing us a strange look as her hand automatically finds the blades she keeps beside her when she sleeps. "She's different."

"It's almost like she's _right here_, with us." Tertia mutters and I throw her an odd look, my brow cocked. She spends a moment or two reading my face, before she smiles brightly. "What about you, Atti?" She teases our gigantic friend. "Any girl at home caught your heart?"

His face grows distant and he offers a slow nod. "Yes…"

"Care to share?" Tertia prods.

"Her name is Yasmin." He scratches at his cheek which has grown rough with stubble. "She's pregnant, I married her just before coming here."

We stare at him, both Tertia and I. Neither of us seems to know what to say, although I'm sure there is nothing we can say. Atticus is lost in his thoughts; probably back home with Yasmin and his unborn baby, going about his day to day activities. The sound of a canon jerks our eyes upright and wakes MaddiGrace and Alexei.

Alexei screams at the sound, frantically fighting against the restraint of the sleeping bag and Tertia's arms that wrap around her. The small girl somehow escapes from both and bounds straight into Atticus' arms and he welcomes her kindly, stroking her hair and whispering soothing words in her ear as she sobs into his hulking chest, her tiny arms snaked around his neck.

_He would have been a great Dad_, I think as I watch him, my hands on my throwing knives. Tertia is out of her sleeping bag, strapping her knives to her waist. She hesitates before she rolls up her sleeping bag and stuffs it into her backpack, looking suddenly anxious. A second canon fire sends another petrified scream from Alexei and we all move. Except Atticus, who can do nothing but hold the girl.

Tertia stands guard just in front of us while MaddiGrace and I help Atticus from his sleeping bag. We then roll the three up, stuffing them into our packs. We refill all of our canteens, dividing them into the bags, and prepare a light breakfast. The sun finally settles in the sky, deciding it is awake and ready, and we sit down and eat.

"Come on, Alexei," Atticus chides as the small girl pushes her stale roll away from her. "What would your mother say if she was here right now, watching you trying to skip breakfast?"

"She would tell you to stop pushing me around." Alexei pokes her tongue out, a faint smile dotting her lips. Atticus arches a brow at her and she giggles, retrieving her roll and tearing off a small piece.

"If you don't eat it all," He warns teasingly. "I'll _really_ push you around, kid."

We finish breakfast quickly and then we're up and off, following the stream through the trees. MaddiGrace stumbles under the weight of her pack, but she doesn't complain. Tertia takes the lead, Atticus falling in effortlessly behind us. Alexei is forced to walk between MaddiGrace and I. It seems to be the safest idea to keep her in the middle at all times, although I certainly hope we're approached from behind and not from the front.

Tertia can hold her own, but I have my doubts about the Capitol girl who walks behind her and in front of Alexei. Our best chance, really, is if we're attacked from behind. Atticus and I can hold them back long enough for the three girls to get away – although I'm certain Tertia would turn back to help.

We follow the stream until it seems to vanish entirely. By this point, we're tired and hungry so we stop in the middle of the forest. We don't bother searching for a clearing or somewhere else to hide, we haven't heard anything or seen anything all day, and surrounded by trees and plants… I doubt we would find anywhere safer.

After we've eaten the last of the rolls, made to taste better by some berries we walked by and squished against the hard rolls, we decide to relax for a bit. None of us are quite sure where we are or how far we have to go until we reach the edge of the forest, so staying here seems okay enough.

"Who do you suppose died?" MaddiGrace finally asks, breaking our silence. Atticus throws her a cold look as Alexei whimpers and shifts closer to him.

"Dunno." I shrug.

"With any luck, it was Nero and that boy from 4." Tertia mutters bitterly, her eyes examining the trees closely. I follow her gaze but see nothing of interest. I listen closely, smiling faintly at the sound of birdsong. Tertia is on her feet, her eyes wide. "We have to go."

"Why?" I frown up at her.

"The birds… they're singing…" She grounds out, shouldering her bag. Her hand hovers over her knives, her eyes wide. Her face is a mask of panic as she shifts from foot to foot, looking around herself and us.

"So…?" MaddiGrace asks.

I frown. Birds, singing… it hits me like a tonne of bricks and I'm on my feet, too, shouldering my bag and hauling MaddiGrace to her feet. Sensing our urgency, Atticus shoves Alexei upright and pulls his bag onto his back.

"They haven't been singing for two days." Tertia grunts. "_Why have they started now_?"

"Maybe they don't think we're a threat anymore?" MaddiGrace offers hopefully as we start walking.

"Everything in the forest is a mutt, MaddiGrace." Tertia snaps. "Capitol creation. They aren't afraid of us. So tell me, why are they singing _now_, when they _wouldn't_ before?"

No one has an answer. As if they understood us, the birds fall silent. This does nothing to soothe us, if anything, it makes us move faster. We break into as fast a jog as we can, moving diagonally in hopes of finding a path. Roots and plants snatch at our feet as we jog and all too soon Atticus is forced to carry Alexei in order for us to actually continue.

The birdsong starts up as soon as our feet hit the path we've stumbled onto. It's well travelled and been used by something or someone recently, but we don't have a choice. Our jog breaks into a sprint as we dash madly down the path, running blindly around bends. The birdsong grows steadily louder, until it drowns out even the sound of my heart in my ears or my breath snagging in my throat.

As if tired of taunting us, the mutt-birds finally make an appearance.

They're huge and frightening, drawing startled screams from MaddiGrace and Alexei as they swoop over our heads. Sharp talons tear at our clothes and hair, hooked beaks try to snap at our skin. Atticus shifts Alexei in his arms, forcing her to bury herself in his chest as he uses one arm to shield his face and her body from the giant grey beasts that swoop down on us as we run.

Two of them dart for Tertia at the same time, their hooked talons snagging her shoulders and hauling her from the ground. Tertia's scream jerks me to a stop as I snag a knife from my waist, hurling it at one of the birds. It connects with the monster's neck, slices clean through and embeds in a tree, and the bird drops her and falls from the sky.

The other bird, unable to keep a hold of her now that it's companion isn't sharing the load, let's go of Tertia to prevent falling and she plummets to the ground. Her hands fly out and there's a sickening crack that fills the air, followed by a broken wail as she forces herself upright, holding her left arm to her chest. We take off again, Tertia doing her best to hurl knives at the birds that dare to fly within range. We bunch together in an effort to keep from one of us being snatched, but it only seems to make it easier for the birds to scratch and peck at us.

"We can't keep running!" Tertia screams over the birds. Her face is pale, grey almost. Blood splashes her from the tears in her skin. She looks like she wants to collapse. "Sam, we've got to stop!"

"We'll die!" MaddiGrace squeaks.

"We'll _die_ if we keep running!" Tertia snaps back.

We stop. MaddiGrace takes Alexei from Atticus' arms and the pair crouch low, MaddiGrace using her body to shield the smaller girl. Atticus, Tertia and I form a ring around the two on the ground, fighting off the mutts as best we can.

Atticus is like a machine. As Tertia and I tire, he continues as if he doesn't have a care in the world. His face is set, his lips a thin line, but he weilds the hooked blades like they have been with him his entire life. He takes down mutt after mutt, his eyes cold and bitter. By the time the birdsong ends and the last mutt falls, Tertia and I are completely out of weapons and slumped on the ground, staring uselessly up at Atticus as he protects all four of us.

"You owe me now, 2." He throws to her when he puts his blades into the makeshift sheath on his back. He drains his canteen in several large gulps before he tosses the empty container to the ground. "Alexei, you okay?"

"Y-yes." She whimpers as she untangles herself from MaddiGrace. Her face is pale and scratched, stained with blood and tears, but she looks mostly unharmed. She hugs him and sobs as MaddiGrace climbs to her feet and moves around the dead mutts, pulling knives from them. "Are they all gone?"

"For now." Tertia grunts. She shifts and cries out, tears glowing in her eyes. I turn to examine her, staring at the deep wounds in her shoulders, at the lacerations on her face and arms. She cradles her left arm to her chest, wincing, and I have a sickening feeling that it's broken. "What now? Don't know how to heal a break, do you, Atti?"

MaddiGrace returns with the knives, dividing them between Tertia and I. I restock my belt, pleased to have them back, and fish out a canteen and the first aid kit from my bag. I rummage through it and find a sling and some bandages. I find four long sticks and cut them down to size, tying them roughly to her arm. I wind the bandage around the makeshift splint and help her into the sling, tying it around her neck. She doesn't thank me, but she throws me a half-hearted smile.

A shrill whistle breaks the silence and a silver parachute lands on the ground in front of us. MaddiGrace snatches it up without thought, pushing aside the layers of silver until she reveals a tub of medicine.

"I guess we have someone who cares." She grins.

MaddiGrace treats each of us, starting with Alexei, until we've all be slathered in the cream. I take it from her hands and tend to each of her wounds carefully. By the time we've all be covered in the thick grey-ish yellow cream, there's barely any left. I slip the last of it into the first aid kit and shove them into my bag, slumping back down.

"You think they'll send us a five course meal if we ask nicely?" Atticus grunts.

"I reckon that's pushing it." I chuckle.

"Shame." Tertia sighs. "I wouldn't mind some of that rice and duck we had in training."

"Or the pancakes we had at breakfast…" MaddiGrace sighs dreamily. "I really liked the pancakes."

"Ice cream…" Alexei mumbles.

The four of us look at her and she blushes brightly and looks down at her hands. Laughter ripples uncertainly from one of us until we're all laughing, unable to help ourselves. There's another loud chime and a second, much larger parachute lands beside us. We glance briefly at each other before MaddiGrace retrieves it, frowning deeply.

"It's _ice cream_…"

Our laughter is uncontrollable.

…

We eat the ice cream cheerfully, devouring it like children who had never experienced something so sweet before. I guess, in a way, we hadn't. We divided it as equally as possible but in the end, Alexei wound up with a portion that was so obviously bigger than the rest, but no one minded. It brought a charming smile to her face and I think we were all glad to see the effect eating the deliciously sweet, cold treat had on her.

By the time we'd finished off the ice cream, Atticus and I were left with the repercussions of basically inhaling the desert. I had never experienced a brain freeze before and the alarming quality of it had me clasping at my forehead, my sweaty palms rubbing at my temples in a desperate attempt to lessen the cold burning going on inside. Atticus was mimicking my movements, groaning faintly as he, too, suffered through the brain freeze.

"Weak." Tertia snorted as the other girls giggled, clearly enjoying our moment of weakness and pain. I didn't have the energy or effort needed to glare at her, but Atticus managed despite him aching head. "Boys really can't handle anything at all."

"Sitting in the sun might help." Alexei declared suddenly, taking Atticus' hand. She forced him to his feet, surprising me with her strength. He stumbled after her, his free hand pressed to his forehead. "It won't last long. I promise."

I stumbled to my feet and hurried after them. We collapsed just in front of the cornucopia, hands still clutched to our heads, but she was right. The heat from the sun soon found us without pain, without the numbing ache inflicted by the ice cream we devoured. Alexei settled herself in Atticus' lap when he was finally upright without struggle and he wound his arms around her body comfortingly.

"I'm never eating ice cream again." I decide firmly, ignoring the giggles from Tertia and MaddiGrace as they lounge lazily back on the wasteland. Atticus nods in agreement, his nose wrinkling, but Alexei simply frowns at us like we've grown two heads.

"You just ate it too fast." She points out. "It doesn't always hurt."

"I don't intend on trying it out again." I tell her. "If we get ice cream again, you can have my share."

"That's not really fair." Alexei frowns. "I can't have something if you won't have it."

"Even if I don't like it?" I ask.

She hesitates, biting down on her lip. She glances briefly at Tertia and MaddiGrace, even back at Atticus. Looking for an answer, or someone to give her one, I realise. "Even if you don't like it."

I smile warmly at her. "That doesn't seem fair. So, if I don't like your favourite food in the whole entire of Panem, you won't eat it, either?"

"Not one bite." She declares. "Not even a nibble."

Atticus laughs behind her. "That's just silly, Alexei. You shouldn't ever go without just because Sam doesn't like something." She throws him a confused look and cocks her head. "Say, if another ice cream delivery landed right now, and Sam and I decided we wouldn't eat it but Tertia and MaddiGrace were going to, would you not eat it?"

She wrinkles her nose, crinkles her forehead, lost deep in through for several moments. Her eyes flicker between us as we all wait for her response, her answer. She opens her mouth and closes it several times, still torn, before she sighs.

"I guess I would eat it." She finally mumbles. "But I wouldn't enjoy it as much."

We are quiet for a while, enjoying the warmth from the sun and the overall relaxing nature of our day. The earlier canon fires are out of our minds and for a while, we're able to trick ourselves into believing that we're just a bunch of friends enjoying a particularly nice day.

But, because we're not really friends and we really are fighting for our lives, this is forced to a devastating end as scream destroys the comfortable silence. Tertia is on her feet before any of us can move, her good hand closing around a blade. I force myself upright, feeling somewhat sluggish, while Atticus shoves Alexei and MaddiGrace into the open mouth of the cornucopia, posting himself in the opening.

"Get back here, 7!"

"It's coming from the ruins!" Tertia exclaims, her eyes flickering to me. "We should go. Now."

"Go where?" I demand, my hand brushing the knives wrapped around me, held at my waist by my belt. She glances back toward the path we'd stumbled from, where the bodies of the dead mutts are still partially visible through the trees. "If we stay quiet, maybe we can…"

A canon booms over our heads, signalling the end of another life. Three down already today. My mind wonders briefly if it was the girl from 7 who went down, or whether she was the murderess of the moment. I shifted uncomfortably, moving forward slightly and staring toward the ruins of District 13. Or, at least, the remarkably similar ruins that bring to mind District 13.

"What is the last thing anyone would expect us to do?" I find myself asking Tertia as I stare at the ruins, a plan formulating in the back of my mind.

"Live." She offers bitterly.

I smile over my shoulder at her. "I think we should _go_ there."

"Into the lion's den…" Tertia mutters, frowning. "That's almost…"

"Insane." Atticus grunts from behind us. I shift until I can see him in the corner of my eye, but still keep my attention on the ruins. "Completely insane."

"Is it, though?" Tertia asks, looking almost amused. "The best place to hide is always the last place you want to go and the last place people expect you to go. No one _wants_ to head toward the fight; we're all _running _from it, so why not hide right under their noses?"

"We wouldn't last five minutes." Atticus argues, waving at where Alexei and MaddiGrace are hidden. He doesn't need to say it; both Tertia and I understand him perfectly. The frightened girl, the youngest and most fragile of our group, wouldn't cope with hiding so close to danger. "We might as well kill ourselves now, save the others the trouble."

"We should check it out." I finally sigh. "There might be somewhere that is safe enough for us to hide there. Somewhere that is far enough away that we can make it, but close enough so that they won't think we're there. It's our best option, and at least then we won't have to look over our shoulders every five seconds."

"I'm with Sam on this one." Tertia agrees.

"I agree, it is ingenious," Atticus growls. "But I can't see it working."

We debate for a while. By the time we make a decision, night is fast approaching and with it will come the faces of the dead tributes. We manage to convince Alexei and MaddiGrace to walk some way into the forest and climb two of the highest trees, going as high up as they can stomach. We use a pulley-system Atticus rigged up using the ropes to get out packs in the trees and by the time the faces of the three dead tributes appear – the girl from 7, the boy from 3, the girl from 8.

Leaving only ten of us left… ten out of twenty-four.

"Welcome to the top ten…" I mutter bitterly as Tertia, Atticus and I head in the direction of the ruins.

A thin trail of smoke rises and swirls into the sky, decorating the inky black. We're too far away to see the fire, as well as the surrounding rubble getting in the way, but somewhere amongst the ruins is a campfire, which can only mean a group of tributes.

"_May the odds be ever in our_ _favour_." Tertia laughs bitterly, her eyes cold.

**Deceased Tributes**

**District 3** Male

**District 7** Male

**District 8** Male


	15. Chapter Thirteen

_Chapter Thirteen_

_' "I needed somewhere to hang my head,_

_Without your noose…" '_

Foo Fighters – _Best of You_.

We hesitate at the very edge of the ruins, hidden behind what is left of what was once a home. I lean awkwardly against the wall, my eyes dancing between Atticus and Tertia. Tertia's face is set and hard, her lips a thin line as she alternates between peering around the rubble we've hidden behind and waiting for a decision. Atticus keeps throwing glances behind us, clearly uncomfortable with leave Alexei behind.

"We should split up." Tertia whispers suddenly, drawing both Atticus and I back down to the reality of our self-inflicted challenge. We didn't need to head into the ruins, we didn't need to put ourselves this much in danger, no matter how good the idea seemed. "We'll be able to search more efficiently, cover more ground."

"Oh?" Atticus smiles faintly and nods at her arm, bound and hanging uselessly in the sling. "And if you get into trouble, 2?" His tone is partially serious, partially teasing. Tertia scowls up at him as her hand curls around one of her knives. "What then?"

"I die, or I scream." She counters back. "But I think it'll be you who needs help before I do, 7."

"Shut up." I hiss at them, my eyes floating to the sky. The smell of smoke is stronger now and I'm not sure if it's coming from the campfire we know is somewhere inside or if it is rising from the smouldering ruins. "There's pros and cons to everything." I flick my gaze to Atticus and Tertia. "If we split up, we can cover more ground and then get back to the girls quickly, but we're more defenceless. If we stay together, we're stronger, but we risk being caught and we can't search as much or as far."

"So, our unofficial fearless leader," Tertia teases me, her eyes serious despite her playful tone. "What do you suggest?"

"I think you should wait here." I tell her seriously, lifting a hand to quell her protest. She glowers at me, her good hand tightening around the blade she'd grabbed. "It just makes more sense, Tertia. Atticus and I can take a side each, which means you can just wait here. It'll ease our minds knowing you can leg it back to the girls if anything goes wrong."

She literally growls at me. "I'm _not useless_, Sam."

"Didn't say you were." I shrug.

"But you're injured." Atticus grunts. "I think Sam's right. It seems the best bet."

"Well, don't shout my name when you get into trouble." She glares at us both.

"Don't worry, 2," Atticus smiles at her. "I won't."

"Stay hidden." I add firmly, my eyes hard.

Atticus and I separate the moment we enter the ruins. I can't say I like my plan much, the idea of being entirely alone knowing that there are people who want to see me dead chews at my insides as I walk over the rubble. Every sound seems loud, impossibly loud, and I'm not even slightly ashamed to admit that I want to turn back. Part of me wishes that Tertia had refused to stay behind, or that she had followed me, because right now being alone is the last thing I want.

I slip in and out of half buildings, searching for something safe and useful to our survival. Nothing really strikes me as handy or a potential hiding spot as I search. The closer I get to the campfire, the sound of laughing tributes and the occasional snore, the more desperate I feel myself becoming.

"Where do you think your _girlfriend_ is, 2?"

I freeze at the sound of the voice, at how close it is. I flatten myself to what is left of a wall and peer around it, my eyes zoning in on the flickering flames of the campfire. I make out the sleeping form of the girl from 1, her district partner lounging lazily next to her, his hand brushing the sword over his lap like it is a small and delicate animal.

My eyes find Tex next – the boy from 4 – and I frown slightly. He takes a large bite from a fruit I can't name, the crunch loud in the quiet. My breath escapes in a gasp as my eyes land on Nero. His back is to me, but I could spot him anywhere. A violent shiver ripples through my body and I shift, wincing at the crunch of rubble beneath my feet. I thank the Gods that at the moment I make noise, he begins to speak.

"She isn't my girlfriend." Nero snarls. "Tertia is lower than slime and I wouldn't even consider her worthy of my time."

I have to swallow hard to stop myself from growling at the comment. My mind flickers and brings a picture of Tertia forward. I see her smiling, laughing, making a complete fool out of me during our training sessions. She literally runs laps around me and I allow myself a smile as my hand withdraws one of my blades, holding it stiffly.

"She bet you, didn't she?" The boy from 1 chuckles.

"She bet all of us." Tex adds, "Got an eleven."

"She'll die just like the rest of them." Nero snaps at them. He climbs to his feet and stretches, glancing around him.

"Going to look for her, are we?" Tex laughs.

"Hardly." Nero snarls.

I hold my breath as he looks in my direction. I watch as he takes a few steps toward the rubble wall I'm hidden behind and then stops, thinking better off it. He spins in the opposite direction and heads for the area Atticus was searching. I have a moment of giddy relief before my stomach tightens and I find myself riddled with panic. Atticus…

My feet move before I can stop them. I turn, weaving back the way I'd come, trying to find a safe place to dart across to the other side and find Atticus. It is as I start to head out into the middle of the rubble, where there is mostly empty space because of the wide street that once ran between the buildings, that a hand clamps down over my mouth and I forced back into the shadows, pinned to a wall by a body much smaller than mine.

I fight back, too frightened to stop myself. The strangled groan of pain freezes me and I halt, my hands falling to my sides. Tertia's eyes are clouded with pain as she lets her good hand hover over her injured arm, not touching it.

"You were meant to stay there!" I hiss at her.

"I'm glad I didn't." She bites back. "Atticus will be alright, Sam. We need to search the rest of this place, now."

I throw one longing look to the other side before a nod. I'm on edge as we move carefully through the shadows, searching the large ruins. I'm surprised by how far it stretches, by how far we travel before we finally stop. Tertia leans against a wall, pale and breathing heavily through her open mouth.

"We can't search it all tonight." She declares finally. "It's too big."

"I hope Atticus had better luck than we did." I declare as we take a moment to catch our breath. "There's a few we could us, but I don't think they're…"

Screams stop me from continuing. They sounds feminie in quality, I realise, and strikingly familiar. I can't place them, and by the look on her face, neither can Tertia. A second scream tears into the night and we both look at each other, confused.

"Atticus!" The girl screams, and it clicks. Alexei.

"Go!" Tertia shouts at me.

We take off, jumping and tripping over the rubble. The girl's screaming intensifies and grows louder and soon, Tertia and I dart out from the ruins and onto the easier to navigate main path. We stop, exposed, and look in every direction.

"Atticus, help me!" Alexei wails.

"Where is she?" Tertia growls.

I shake my head, trying to spot the girl. It's too dark to see very far ahead, even with the campfire smoke rising high into the sky some distance in front of us. I shift from foot to foot and start to jog, Tertia falling easily into step with me as we listen to our friend's desperate screams.

"Atticus!"

I throw out an arm as my eyes land on the girl at last. She's bound and hanging high overhead, strapped to a pole. I catch Tertia as she makes to move forward, my eyes wide as I look up at the little girl thrashing in mid-air, tears streaming down her pale face. Nero stands against the wall opposite her, not even looking up at the child.

"How did she get here?" Tertia hisses as we duck behind a pile of rubbish on the edge of the path. "What the hell was that girl doing? Didn't she keep a goddamn eye on her?"

"I didn't hear any canons…" I offer. "Maybe they've got them both?"

"Oh, yeah?" Tertia snorts. "I guess she did deserve the one she got."

"Atticus!" The girl wails desperately.

"We have to _do_ something." I mutter.

"It's a trap, Sam." Tertia's face is grim as she peers at Alexei. "The others must be around here somewhere, they have to be. Her screams would have brought them running if they didn't know what was going on…"

"Where's Atticus?" I ask suddenly, surprised.

Tertia meets my gaze, frowning. We both know that Atticus would be here, right now, if he could. Alexei's screams wouldn't go ignored by the massive guy from 7, no way. He'd gone through too much, done too much to let her die this way. He would be doing everything to save her… _so_ _where was he_?

"If he's smart, he'll be looking for us." Tertia declares suddenly, freeing a knife from her belt. "Which means he _is_ _here_, somewhere." She flips the blade over and over in her hand, her eyes leaving our suspended friend and falling on the boy from her district. "I'm going to distract Nero, Sam… try and find Atticus, or find a way to get her down."

Before I can stop her, Tertia is on her feet and moving toward the District 2 monster. He doesn't see her, not at first, and not until a blade embeds itself into the wall by his head. He jerks upright, withdrawing a nasty looking spiked club, his eyes narrowed.

"Jumpy, Nero." Tertia calls to him. "Getting your kicks out of scaring little girls now, huh?"

"Where are your friends, Tertia?" He demands, taking a step toward her. A blade whizzes past his ear and he steps, sensing the importance of staying still. He can see what I see – Tertia is toying with him right now. "Guess they don't care about the brat after all."

"Tertia!" Alexei wails, swinging back and forth on her rope. "Tertia, help me!"

"Just hang in there, sweetheart." Tertia makes the first mistake of her life by looking up at the little girl.

Nero leaps forward, catching her around the waist. He forces them both down and I wince as Tertia cries out in pain. She struggles beneath him and for a while, I watch as they wrestle, wanting desperately to jump in and help. Tertia somehow wriggles herself free and takes off, sprinting away from Alexei and me.

"Run, Tertia!" Nero shouts as he begins to chase her. "But at the end of the night, you're dead!"

I wait until I can't hear them, and then I wait a bit longer to make sure no one else steps forward to guard Alexei. No one does and so I hurry from behind my hiding spot, jogging quickly to where Alexei hangs. She whimpers brokenly, crying without hindrance as she sways at the end of the rope.

"Where's Atticus?" She whispers when she sees me.

"I don't know." I tell her honestly as I inspect the pole she's hanging from. A rope runs from up around her, circling the pole from top to bottom and tied snugly around a large rock on the round. I wince as I realise the only way to get her down it to cut the rope. "Hold still, Alexei. _Really still_."

I take a deep breath and grab onto the rope with one hand, taking a knife from my belt with the other. I hesitate before I crouch down and sever the rope from the rock. Alexei jerks and I almost lose my grip as the rope slides through my hand, burning my flesh. Alexei cries out and I grip the rope with both hands, holding tightly to it.

"You're going to have to drop her to get her down, 12."

I freeze at the voice, stiffening until I crane my head to peer over my shoulder. The girl from 1 smiles at me as she swings a sword back and forth, the tip screeching against the path under her feet.

"The fall will probably break all of her tiny little bones, too." She sighs, "But that's life, isn't it?"

I ignore her, stretching myself to lower Alexei a little more. She's crying again as she listens to what the girl from 1 is saying, taunting us both. But she isn't wrong. Whoever strung Alexei up left me with just enough rope to lower her slightly, but not enough for me to get her to the ground safely. If I let go, she'll plummet down so fast she's break at least her leg… if not her neck.

"How long do you think you can hold on when I begin to hurt you, 12?" The girl from 1 is right behind me now and I jump. Alexei squeaks as she swings on the end of the rope, like a human piñata. I wince as the rope burns through my hands, the pain so intense I almost let go. The girl presses herself against my back, snagging a knife from my belt. She presses it softly to my throat and I close my eyes, waiting. "Is she worth dying for?"

The blade digs into my flesh, cutting a thin line down the side of my neck. I grind my teeth together to keep from crying out, clinging desperately to the rope as hot pain flares in my neck. I can feel the wound weeping as the girl from 1 moves the knife from my neck, dragging it down my chest slowly.

"How many cuts will it take before you let her fall, 12?" She whispers in my ear as she presses the blade against my chest, just under my right nipple. I let out a hissing breath as she drags it sideways, cutting through my shirt and the thin underlay, straight into my flesh. "Should we count them?"

I tremble as she drags the knife over and over my body. Cutting everywhere she can reach. The pain is mild at first, but with each new cut, the pain intensifies. I cry out several times, unable to stop myself, and the girl merely laughs in my ear as she switches hands and attacks my left side.

"You're doing surprisingly well, 12." She breaths against my neck. "Thirty…" The blade brushes my hip, slicing through the flesh and material. I wince and the rope slips a little in my hands. "Thirty one…" I bite the inside of my cheek so hard I taste blood. "Thirty two…" The rope slips again, burning my palms as Alexei slips a little lower, squealing with fear. "Thirty…"

The girl from 1 screams as she's tugged away from me. I shudder as I force myself to hold tighter to the rope that is slipping through my hands, hands torn apart and bleeding from the deep burns I've received. I force myself not to look back, not to listen as the girl from 1 screams over and over again, begging for help, screaming out for Nero or Tex or Dante – who must be her partner from 1 – over and over and over again.

There is a moment of silence before the sound of bone snapping and I jump slightly, causing Alexei to cry out as she slips a little further. I can feel the end of the rope in my hands, frayed, and I know that the moment this part slips, Alexei will fall.

"Let go, Sam."

I look over my shoulder, my eyes finding Atticus as a canon sounds over our heads. He positions himself under Alexei, but his eyes are on me. He nods and I let go, listening to her scream as she falls. I slump to my knees, curling in on myself as I listen to Alexei's broken cries and the hushing noises Atticus makes as he holds her tightly in his arms. I lift my head just slightly, enough to watch him pepper kisses on her tear-stained cheeks, trying desperately to reassure the tiny girl he holds to his chest.

Like he is holding the most precious creature in the whole entire world…

"Sam, get up." Atticus sets Alexei down and grabs my shoulder, hauling me to my feet. He shoves my knife into his belt, the knife the girl from 1 took from me, and steps over her body as he snags Alexei into his arms. "Where's Tertia?"

I don't say anything so he stops walking, rounding on me. He shifts Alexei into one arm and shakes me hard with his free hand, his fingers digging so deeply into my shoulders that I wince back, away from him.

"Pull yourself together, Sam." He snaps at me. "Where is Tertia?"

When I don't answer, he slaps me. I don't see if coming and it catches me completely by surprise. I find myself hitting the ground before I can respond, landing awkwardly on the path beside the body of the girl from 1. Green eyes stare lifelessly up at the sky and I force myself to move away from her, my stomach churning. Atticus hauls me to my feet again, gripping my chin between his fingers.

"Where," He bites out. "Is Tertia?"

I blink at him. "I don't know."

"Wonderful." He glares at me, his tone bitterly sarcastic. I stare back at him, feeling oddly detached and painfully numb. I follow him when he starts to walk, my head tilted slightly. "Our fearless leader has gone into shock…"

Shock? I laugh. I don't feel shocked, or like I'm in shock. In fact, I don't feel much of anything at all. I don't feel the pain from my hands or the cuts the now-dead girl from 1 gave me. I don't feel tired or hungry, not even slightly thirsty. I feel empty. Blank.

"How did you get here, Alexei?" Atticus asks, breaking the silence. He stops and manhandles me into a large crater in the earth, surrounded on all sides by high walls of rubble. I let him push me down, until I'm sitting, and watch as he sets Alexei beside me. "How did you get here, and where is MaddiGrace?"

"Tex said we would be safe…" She whispers, her eyes wide. "We climbed down because a bag fell and he was there. He told us to come with him… that you sent him to get us." She sniffs, looking away. "But he lied. I'm sorry, Atticus, we shouldn't have climbed down!"

He comforts her hurriedly, stroking her hair. "It's alright, you're not in trouble." He soothes gently. "Alexei, what did he do with MaddiGrace?"

"I don't know." She looks up at him, eyes shining with tears. "The boy who kept talking about Tertia took me away… and then Tertia came and she had a fight with him and ran off… and then Sam… and you… and that girl who hurt Sam…"

"So Tertia was okay when you last saw her?" Atticus mutters softly.

"Yes, but I don't want the guy to catch her." She whimpers, eyes wide. "He wants to hurt her, Atticus..."

**Deceased Tributes**

**District 1** Female (_Atticus_)


	16. Chapter Fourteen

_Chapter Fourteen_

_' "I'm falling apart, I'm barely breathing,_

_With a broken heart that's still beating…" '_

Lifehouse – _Broken_.

For four days, we don't hear a single canon fire. It's a slight comfort as Atticus moves us from broken house to broken house, hiding us in the rubble of what I find myself believing is District 13. Alexei is a bundle of nerves, jumping at every sound, while I simply stare. I can't bring myself to care, to feel, as we move from one ruin to the next. Atticus leaves us for hours on end, returning with food and water and then disappearing again.

Picking up the slack. Being a leader.

Doing _my_ job.

By the fifth day, he grows tired of carrying the extra weight. We've gotten as close to the camp we saw as we dare, hiding in a ruin just several metres away. At first Atticus had hesitated, but Alexei was exhausted and I was just a shell, offering no help or support, not even considering fighting his ideas. In an attempt to give us some comfort, he ushered us inside and made a meal for us out of some food he stole from the camp.

It didn't work.

Tertia was nowhere to be found, MaddiGrace seemed to have fallen off the face of the earth – or the arena – and nothing seemed to be helping. Alexei was losing hope as the days progressed, becoming steadily more withdrawn and quieter. She no longer cried out of a night, no longer huddled at my side, trembling, when Atticus left us alone. The tiny little girl simply stared at what was left of the walls until he returned.

She no longer smiled when he returned. No longer rushed to him like she was dying to seem him. Instead, she would pick herself up and walk calmly to his side, give him the briefest of hugs, and then retreat to a corner of the room where she would sit and hug her knees to her chest, her eyes fixed on the opposite wall.

Atticus was looking more worn as the days went by. Every night he would sleep, waking just before dawn. He would carry Alexei to my side and place her in my arms, forcing me to wrap my arms around her before he would leave us to search for Tertia and MaddiGrace or food. The moment Alexei woke, however, she would retreat to her corner and stay there all day until he returned.

On the sixth day, a canon sounds.

Alexei doesn't even blink as the canon sounds, doesn't cry out. But later that night, when she's safely nestled in Atticus' arms, she calls for Tertia and MaddiGrace. I watch the sky as the face of the boy from 10 appears and disappears while she sleeps. I don't hope. I don't even feel sorry for the boy.

It isn't until our tenth day in the arena, when we're forced to hide in a building directly across from Tex, the boy from 1, and Nero's camp that we hear them. Desperate, agonised screams. Broken pleading to stop. The voice is familiar and it takes me a while of listening before I can place it, place the hopeful cries for mercy that steal from the girl's lips.

Tertia.

Atticus is awake and on his feet as she screams for help, begging and pleading. Laughter mocks her as the boys at the camp continue whatever it is they are doing to her. I force myself up, walking brokenly to a crack in the wall that I peer through, my hands splayed either side of it.

"God, no…" Atticus breaths beside me, slumping down the wall.

I stare at Tertia. I stare at the boys. My first friend, the first member of my alliance hangs from her wrists, tied to a T-shaped stake in middle of their camp. Flames lick at her feet as she fights to keep them up, away from the curling yellow embers. I can barely recognise her, she's so battered and bruised. Her screams fill the air and draw Alexei to my side, Atticus too lost to notice as the little girl presses her eye to the crack in the wall beside me, peering out at our friend.

She watches as Nero and the boy from 1 howl with laughter, tossing stones and pieces of broken glass at Tertia's damaged body. Tertia shies away, screaming at the top of her lungs as the flames snap at her bare legs. She's missing her boots, her the legs of her trousers, most of her shirt. Lacerations and burns cover a good portion of her body, and what isn't bleeding or infected is bruised purple and blue and black.

"_Do something_." Alexei demands and I tear my gaze from Tertia to look at her. Her hands are balled into tiny fists at her side as she kicks Atticus' shin. He doesn't seem to notice as he bows his head, his hair obscuring the little girl's view of his face. "_Do something_!" She repeats, kicking him again. She then turns to me, her face angry and hurt and so full of emotions that a girl her age shouldn't know that I have to swallow the lump in my throat. "_Do something, now_!"

When neither of us go to move, Alexei grabs her little dart gun from the corner of the room she normally holes up in and darts down the broken staircase, taking them two at a time. I watch her appear outside through my crack before my sluggish limbs move. Atticus bounds to his feet before I can follow, disappearing, and I chase him.

I'm outside in time to see Nero catch a hold of Alexei as a dart sinks into his chest. With one hand, he closes his fist around the tiny girl's throat, the other knocks the dart from his skin as he glowers down at her. He lifts her easily from the ground, her feet kicking, and with one violent jerk, her head falls to the side and he lets her go. A canon thunders, signalling the death of Alexei.

Tertia screams and I'm certain it isn't from pain. She breaks down completely as she stares at Alexei's crumpled body. Tex takes off at breakneck speed, racing away from the brewing fight as Atticus seems to lose all control of himself.

He takes out the boy from District 1 with ease, using nothing but his bare hands and a rock. It's not exactly a kill anyone could credit him, because as he throws the smaller boy, the boy's head connects with a sharp and nasty looking rock beside the fire near Tertia's feet. The boy from 1 doesn't get up.

Nero laughs coldly as Atticus launches himself at them. They grapple for a while, arms and legs flying, and I turn my back on them both. I race to Tertia, fear breaking through my wall of numbness. My mind seems to fracture as I cut her down from her post, pulling her damaged body into my arms. She screams out as we fall, landing awkwardly across the body of the boy from 1. I help her up, dragging her into my arms, and she weeps as I stumble in the direction Tex took off in.

Two canons sound – one for Nero, one for the boy from 1 – and then I hear Atticus behind us. He grabs my shoulder and I drop Tertia in surprise. She cries out brokenly, curling into a tiny ball as she whimpers. I kneel beside her, my stomach in knots.

"Kill me…" She whispers, half sobbing. "Please, kill me…"

"I can't." I shake my head and take several steps back.

"Atticus, _please_…" She begs him, looking up at his clouded face. He falls to his knees beside her, his lips drawn into a tight line as he pulls a knife from my belt. I look away, unable to bring myself to watch. "_Please_…"

A heart beat later, the canon fires and Tertia is gone.

We camp out that night at the cornucopia, eating fruit that is sent to us from our generous sponsors. Sponsors are probably enjoying our heartbreak, the emotion. They probably loved watching Atticus take Tertia's life more than they loved watching him kill Nero for killing Alexei. We don't watch the sky that night.

And when sleep comes, it isn't a welcome relief.

…

_Crimson life-fluid stains everything it touches, turning the world around me into nothing but varying shades of thick, sticky red. A metallic smells hugs the air as I move slowly forward, searching for something among the scattered and broken bodies at my feet. Once or twice my mind helpfully thrusts a name in my direction as I catch the remains of a face, recognition filling me to the point of bursting as my heart hammers in my chest and my stomach clenches around the icicle blade that seems to have inserted itself deep inside me._

_The lingering shadows of screams still stalk me, hanging heavy around my shoulders. Wisps of those screams poke their ghastly fingers at my mind as I move amongst the fallen bodies. My feet struggle to find a safe place to land as I walk amongst them, and more often than not I'm forced to step on a hand or foot, a leg or arm, part of someone's torso. Every time I do, my stomach threatens to make a guest appearance as the guilt I feel becomes so strong it almost consumes me whole._

_I don't know how, but soon I stand at the very edge of the battlefield. I try to force myself to keep going, to stumble to the large willow tree with its sweeping branches and protective fall of long, thin leaves. I take one step toward it before I fall, my arms flying out to catch me. I land on my knees, on my hands, and my mind helpfully informs me of the burning pain I feel in them. But this is the last thing on my mind as I catch a glimpse through my limbs of what lays behind me._

_The golden horn towers above the red land, untouched by the gore that lies around it. It glows beneath the red sun, sending out impressive golden rays that does nothing more than intensify the blood around it. It is the only thing left in this entire area that hasn't been soaked thoroughly with the blood of the fallen children. Because that's all they are, that's all _we_ are. _Children_._

_I force myself to my feet and turn. The golden Cornucopia seems to be mocking me as it sits there, untouched, unblemished. I swallow harshly as I lift a hand to shield my eyes. I spot the large hooked blade in my hand, my eyes widen as I stare at it. It's wrapped in a thick coating of damp, sticky brown-red and I let it fall from my hand as horror fills me. _

_Laughter explodes inside my mind and I turn, racing toward the protective willow. I fall to me knees and climb beneath it, my eyes taking their merry time to adjust to the darkness beneath the tree's embrace. I hold my breath and curl up against the base of the tree, my breath coming in strangled, choking sobs._

_"Sammy…?"_

_The voice is soft and fragile and my mind reminds me of what I was looking for. I lift my eyes slowly, searching for the source of the voice. I find her with my eyes and I almost scream. Blood stains her chest as she lays there, an arm extended to me. Her eyes are fearful, her black hair plastered to her pale cheeks as she watches, waiting._

_"Maddi… MaddiGrace…" I choke out, forcing myself to move. I watch her flinch as I take her hand and hold it tight, my fingers entwining with hers. I pull her into my lap, clinging to her like she's the only thing left keeping me alive. _

_"I want to go home." She sobs, a sound so broken it catches and tugs at my heart strings. I grip her tightly, squeezing her, listening to the shaky beating of her heart. "I just want to go home."_

_"You are." I snarl through my teeth. "You're gonna be just fine, MG, you're gonna go home." _

_I pick her up in my arms and move as carefully as I can from the willow tree's soothing embrace. I set her down just outside the tree, on the other side of it, away from all of the broken bodies and gore left behind by the battle I can't quite remember. I drop to my knees beside her, willing myself to die right now, to force them to take her away and return her home._

_"Sammy?" She's like a child, her words so fragile as she looks up at me with wide, watery eyes. I take her hand and squeeze it, my eyes dancing along the length of her. I spot a blade jutting out from the ankle-boots wrapped around her small feet and I reach for it. "Sammy, I want to go home…"_

_"I know," I whisper as I hold the blade in my hand. I swallow and steel myself, meeting her eyes. She doesn't see the blade; she doesn't seem to see anything as her eyes flicker and struggle to stay focused. I stoop down, planting the softest of kisses against her lips before I sit back, inhaling nervously. "I love you, MaddiGrace Moore, and you're gonna marry me the moment we get home."_

_There's a distant canon fire as her last breath rattles in her chest. It's now or never, I know and I tighten my grip around the blade. Loud voices echo around me, calling for my attention, demanding I drop my knife. I hear the hovercrafts and I glance back, over my shadow. Before I know quite what I'm doing, I've pulled MaddiGrace's limp body into my lamp and I press the blade to my throat, watching as the peacekeepers form a large white band around me. Waiting._

_One of them takes a step toward me and I respond like a self-destructive wild animal. I cling to MaddiGrace with one hand and the other forces the blade across my throat, so deeply and so quickly that the waterfall of blood sprays the closest of the peacekeepers. _

_I slump brokenly over MaddiGrace as they race forward. I feel hands on me, tugging me, but I cling to MaddiGrace until my strength fails me and blackness eats at my vision. Darkness encases me so tightly that, as I fade into it, I know there's no way I'll be coming back from this. _

_They can't have me if I'm_ dead.

When I wake, MaddiGrace's name hovers unspoken on my lips.

**Deceased Tributes**

**District 1** Male (_Atticus_)

**District 2 **Female - Tertia (_Atticus_)

**District 2** Male - Nero (_Atticus_)

**District 4** Female - Alexei (_Nero_)

**District 10** Male (_unknown_)


	17. Chapter Fifteen - Katzula

_Chapter Fifteen_

_' "The perfect words never crossed my mind 'cause there was nothing in there but you,_

_I felt every ounce of me screaming out, but the sound was trapped deep in me…" '_

Snow Patrol – _Signal Fire_.

Her heart breaks as tears slip down her cheeks, crashing from her jaw and falling to bury themselves amongst the sweeping layers of her dress. Beside her, Caine is frozen as he stares at the screen, his eyes lowered and one of his hands wrapped around hers. They watch as Atticus' body swings back and forth with the gentle breeze, hanging from a branch of the tree that Alexei had hidden in only days ago, their packs lying scattered at the base of the trunk.

For several long moments, the screen shows nothing but his face as he swings, his feet brushing against the trunk and lower branches. It had been horrifying to watch. He had tied himself a noose and them climbed as high as he could, stopping only when the branches refused to support his weight. He had secured the end of the rope to the thick branch under him, pulled the noose tight around his neck and leapt from the tree.

His neck hadn't snapped when the rope went taught.

Instead, Atticus had swung from the end of it, banging into branches and trees as his nails raked at the rope choking him. He kicked and thrashed, his body twisting uselessly around as his feet tried to find purchase on the branches closest. They were all thinner beams, unable to hold him. Every time he seemed able to free himself, the branch would snap and he would jerk on the end of the rope.

Eventually his struggles stopped, his hands falling uselessly to his sides, the tips of his fingers stained with his own blood. His neck was badly scratched, weeping blood even after he stopped breathing. His eyes bulged out of his head, bloodshot and painful looking as the vessels exploded beneath the surface, turning the whites of his eyes into a valley of red. His lips turned blue, his face mirror the normally calming colour of the ocean as he suffocated, choked to death.

And now he swayed back and forth, his neck stretching from the weight of his body until it appeared unnaturally long. The canon blast started everyone, woke the three sleeping tributes who were left in the arena and sent Caine's nails deep into the flesh of her hands. But she didn't move. She stayed perfectly still, her lips pressed together as she let her tears streak down her cheeks.

They didn't collect his body straight away. Instead, they let Sam stumble over it. He'd been jerked awake by the sound of the canon and had looked panicked as he searched for the last member of his alliance. He had climbed to his feet and took off at a run, searching the area closest. How he found Atticus' body was beyond her knowledge, but he had, and he turned away moments after his eyes stared up into the grey face and lifeless, bloodshot eyes of his friend.

The Capitol watched as Sam Holloway lost control of his silent battle to keep whatever he had left inside of him. He threw up over and over again until there was nothing left in his stomach. He sobbed, unashamed of his tears as he hovered weakly over his own vomit, swaying.

He recovered enough to pick himself up and, very carefully, he walked away from Atticus' swinging body. He walked for hours on end, wandering through the ruins, head lowered and his shoulders slumped. He had no hope left. It was obvious. He stopped by what was left of the campfire that had once been the place of Tertia's torture and slumped by the stake she'd hung from, his eyes staring sightlessly at the world around him. At the ruins.

Her heart screamed his name as she watched him, a broken and fractured creature who had given up entirely. He sat there, his head bowed and his arms uselessly in his lap, his legs stretched out in front of him. He didn't move and for a while, the cameras watched him as he suffered through his breakdown, lost in his own world of hurt and pain.

"Come on, Sam…" Caine whispered beside her. "Find MaddiGrace… she's still out there. Don't give up yet."

She forced her hand from her friend's as she stood, moving swiftly through the rich Capitol guests and various other people she couldn't be bothered with. The people who had sponsored Sam, sponsored Tertia and Atticus, sponsored some of the other dead tributes and who were now waiting for the final deaths so that a victor could be crowned.

She shoved a handful of shiny gold coins into a man's hand, barking an order at him, before she moved back to where she had left Caine. He watched her approach, watched her slump into the seat beside him, and watched as she set her jaw and stared at the screen. He took her hand again and this time, she was thankful for the painful way his nails bit into her flesh.

The silver parachute landed in front of Sam, but he made no move to grab it. She cursed him silently until he shuffled forward, plucking the card from the top of the parcel. He read it over and over again, mouthing the line that was etched on the bracelet around his wrist. He stroked it fondly, his fingers brushing the silver as he tucked the card beneath his shirt. He grabbed the parcel and unwrapped it slowly, cautiously, a frown creasing his forehead.

"You sent him ice cream…?" Caine questioned beside her.

Sam seemed to question it, too. He stared up at the sky, his frown so deep it almost masked the pain in his eyes. He took the small tub and held it for a moment, his fingers wrapping around the spoon that had been included in the parcel.

"He needs to remember." Was all she offered as she watched him force the lid from the desert and begin to dig into it, tears streaming down his cheeks.

Clearly bored with Sam, the screen switched to Tex. He stood on the outskirts of the forest on the opposite side to where Atticus had hung himself. Battered and bruised from a fight with one of the horrendous bear-mutts, he dragged an unconscious MaddiGrace behind him, his face contorted with rage.

There was a nasty bump on the girl's pale head, bright red and obvious despite the dirt and blood smeared over her skin. He dragged her to the cornucopia, struggling slightly, and after he reached the location he let go of her arm. The arm he'd dragged her with. She groaned and her eyelids fluttered, but she didn't wake.

"I'll teach you," He hissed at her as he knelt down, fishing some rope from his pocket. He bound her wrists behind her back, shoving her roughly onto her stomach in order to do so. She groaned again and he grabbed her by the hair, reefing her back so hard that for a moment it seemed that he might just break her neck. A flash of silver appeared around her throat, the glint of a thin chain, but it was gone as he shoved her against the cornucopia, helping her roughly to sit partially upright.

She groaned again, louder and slightly more alert this time, and her eyelids flickered. MaddiGrace's head rolled forward, her dark curls falling to obscure her face. Caine let out a soft cry as his fingernails bit into the skin of Katzula's hand again, breaking the surface and drawing small beads of blood. She ignored it, her attention fixed on the insane boy from 4 as he bound MaddiGrace's feet as she began to wake up, her head swaying slightly.

"Think you're too good for me, huh?" He snarled at her, pinching her chin between his fingers and forcing her head back. It clunked loudly against the gold plated cornucopia and MaddiGrace winced, trying to force her head away from him, her eyes not yet able to open. "Too good for me, Tex Houston! Ha!"

"He's gone insane…" Caine whispered, fear evident in his voice.

"I spent my life in and out of homes. I went from a mental institute to a foster home because _nobody wanted me_, nobody _cared_, but I was _better_ than _them_. I'm better than all of them – _better than everyone_!" He roared at her, his eyes wild.

MaddiGrace whimpered, her eyes fluttering open and closed like the wings of a butterfly as she tried to force herself back into the real world. She shifted, trying to move her arms, her legs. The rope was too tight, cutting into her feet, and she shifted slightly, her eyes opening for slightly longer periods of time as her head swayed this way and that, unable to remain upright for long.

"_I'm going to kill you_," He informs her scathingly, his words like a whip. MaddiGrace manages she shift slightly, enough for her to rest her head against the cornucopia, but her eyes fall closed again as she alternates between consciousness and unconsciousness.

Tex slaps her hard, repeatedly, until she blinks up at him. For a moment her eyes seem odd, almost as if one is green and the other is blue, but it fades quickly as she blinks and those strangely beautiful grey eyes peer up at the world. She manages to zone in on Tex's face for several moments before she groans, a pained look darkening her unnaturally pale face.

"I'm going to kill you slowly. _Painfully_. I'm going to _tear your heart from your chest_ and squeeze it in my hands. _I'm going to break it into tiny little pieces_, just like _you broke mine_." He hisses at her, pinching her chin again and forcing her to look at him. A small grunt slips from her lips, the sound pained, but he doesn't seem to notice it. "And then I'm going to drag your body, all bloody and mutilated, and I'm going to break you into pieces while your precious Sammy _watches_."

"_Sam_…" The name tumbles from her lips and her efforts to fully grab hold of consciousness doubles. She shifts and shakes her head, freeing her chin from between his fingers. He growls and takes a step back, his hands knotting in his blood hair. He tugs at it and screams, kicking at the ground as MaddiGrace forces herself to keep her eyes open, to shift against the cornucopia. "Sam."

"Stop it!" Tex roars as he spins to face her, pulling his hands away from his head. Chunks of blonde come away and flutter in the breeze as he grabs a hold of her throat, dragging her to her feet. Her body slides against the smooth surface of the cornucopia as he pins her there, his eyes wild. The cameras fix on his face as he lowers her slightly, not ready to kill her yet, and pins her body in place with his own. "Stop it…"

He lowers his forehead, pressing it to hers. He splays his hands either side of her head, his lips mouthing the same two words over and over. MaddiGrace's eyes flutter again and he brings one of his hands to cup her cheek, stroking it with the pad of his thumb.

"Stop it…" He repeats again, barely a whisper. Tears stream down his cheeks suddenly as he traces her lips with his thumb, suddenly so very gentle with her. MaddiGrace says something, but it's barely audible and muffled as he presses his finger to her lips. "Stop, _stop it_ now. You can't say his name, you can't say his name, no, you can't. You love me. You love me, only me. You don't love him. You love _me_."

"God, no…" Caine whispers.

Tex's lips crash down on MaddiGrace's, one hand moving to cup her cheek again and the other knotting in her hair. He forces her mouth open, slips his tongue inside. MaddiGrace seems mostly unresponsive, her eyes opening and closing but unable to focus on anything at all. She groans and Tex takes it as enjoyment, encouragement, and he intensifies the one-sided kiss.

The camera moves back, widening its view of the area. It zooms out so far that it's hard to tell what Tex is doing to MaddiGrace and to be honest, Katzula doesn't really want to know. She swallows the lump in her throat as she spots a small speck in the distance, near the ruins. Sam? Could it be?

The camera zooms in on the speck and it is Sam. The Capitol is given a glimpse of the boy as he stumbles absentmindedly around, looking determined and broken all at once, and then it flashes back to Tex as he screams profanities at the once-again unconscious girl pinned between him and the gold-plated cornucopia.

"Damn you!" He roars, slamming her against the cornucopia over and over again. Crimson liquid colours the once-pristine cornucopia as he throws her off to the side, like she's nothing more than a rag-doll. Her body crumples to the ground, face-first in the dirt, and he storms over to her. He forces her onto her back and glares down at her.

"You're meant to love _me_, not _him_!" He roars at her. Tears roll down his cheeks as he begins to strangle her. She's too far out of it to try and struggle. His hands close around her throat, lifting her partially up and slamming her back into the earth over and over again. He let's go of her just as suddenly as he'd started, slumping against her body and sobbing brokenly. "Why don't you love me?"

"Get off her!"

The camera flashes to Sam and then zooms out, letting the three of them fill the screen. Sam's eyes are hard, his face an angry mask of murderous intent as he looks between Tex and MaddiGrace's still body on the ground. His hand itches at his side, fingers begging to wrap around one of his knives.

"She loves me!" Tex screams at him as he stumbles to his feet, "Go away! She loves me! Me, _not you_!"

"Sam…?" MaddiGrace's eyes flicker open, his name a broken rattle. "Sam?"

"It's okay, MG." He calls. "It's all okay, it'll be over soon, I promise."

"Shut up!" Tex's boot connects with MaddiGrace's side and an earsplitting crack fills the air, causing Caine to wince and Katzula to bite her lip hard. Sam face is thunderous as Tex kicks MaddiGrace again and again and before he can stop himself, before Tex can land another blow and break another of the girl's ribs, Sam has freed a knife and hurled it at the boy.

It isn't a killing blow, but it catches Tex off-guard and he stumbles away from MaddiGrace. He roars like a wounded, angry animal and darts forward. His arms held out in front of him, his hands ready to wrap around Sam's throat. His eyes are wild. He doesn't dodge the next knife and it lands between his eyes, killing him instantly. His body takes a few more steps before it falls at Sam's feet, twitching.

A canon booms.

Sam races forward, leaping Tex's body. He drops to his knees beside MaddiGrace, rolling her gently onto her back. Dirt clumps in her hair, turned to mud and stained red with her blood. Sam sobs desperately as he cuts the ropes binding her wrists, then her ankles. He lifts her into his arms and carries her toward the trees, stepping just inside them, away from Tex's body and the blood-stained ground.

He lowers himself to the ground, pulling her onto his lap and into his arms. MaddiGrace's head leans against his chest, his arm wrapped around her to keep her upright. It almost looks like she is fast asleep, really, until her eyes flicker open and she mumbles his name. Tears roll down Sam's cheeks, falling into her hair as her plants a soft kiss on her forehead.

"I-I'm s-sorry." MaddiGrace whispers, struggling to get out the words she clearly wants to say as she hovers on the threshold of death. She forces her eyes open, her lips to move even as Sam tries to shush her. "I… I didn't… p-protect Al-Alexei…"

"It's alright, it's okay." Sam assures her, stroking her cheek. "It's gonna be fine, MG."

"Y-you can g-go home, now…" She swallows. "B-be with… with _her_…"

Sam uses his hand to tip her chin back, her head cradled on his arm. Her eyes flicker briefly, green and blue instead of grey, but it seems more of a trick of a light than anything. He frowns down at her, he lets go of her chin and brushes his fingers over her neck. He withdraws from beneath her ruined shirt a locket and his face is a mask of horror.

"I-I… I'm sorry I k-kissed you." She whispers as his fingers toy with the locket, his eyes wide and his face framed by a horror so deep and intense that Katzula almost looks away, knowing that he now understands. "That night… that n-night on the… the r-rooftop."

"Kat…" He shakes his head as he begins to cry, forcing his eyes to look up at the sky. An overhead camera fixes on him and Katzula stares hard at the screen in an attempt to ignore the eyes locking her way. "God, no… _no_… _KATZULA_!"

"I guess he finally worked it out…" Caine mumbles beside her, his head turned away from the heartbreak on the boy's face as Sam holds the dying girl in his arms. She nods faintly, her eyes unable to leave the scene set out before her, no matter how private it seems. "I hope her life is worth it, MG."

She doesn't answer him as she watches Sam. He is broken completely now, crying as he mumbles something the camera can't pick up. A canon fires, but he's too far gone to notice as he clings to the dead girl in his arms. Hover crafts land and Peacekeepers climb from them, approaching him.

Somewhere deep inside of him, he snaps. He reaches for the knives at his belt and he hurls them at the approaching officers of peace, his eyes wild. He throws until there's none left and then he just screams at them to go, holding tightly to the dead girl in his arms. He screams at them, screams her name over and over again, screams until he loses his voice and the Peacekeepers manage to pull her body from him.

The screen goes blank as a needle is forced into his arm. A sedative.

"MaddiGrace is dead." She mumbles, not looking at Caine. "MaddiGrace died in the arena..."

"Who are you going to be?" He whispers in her ear as all eyes fall on her. She stares at the blank screen, oblivious to the Capitol monsters milling around and calling their congratulations to her as they leave, heading to celebrate. Some of them will be collecting their winnings. The ones who bet on Sam to win, that is. Others will be drowning their loses in alcohol. "Well?"

"Katzula." She pushes up off the seat. "Katzula, daughter of the Head Gamemaker and the love of Sam Holloway's life, the first victor of the Hunger Games."

Because she can't be MaddiGrace Moore anymore – not when the whole world just watched MaddiGrace Moore of District 12 die in the arms of her best friend and the victor of the first ever Hunger Games. But it wasn't really MaddiGrace Moore who died. No. MaddiGrace was alive and breathing, physically healthy and only partially broken.

"You had better pull yourself together, then." Caine mutters as he takes her arm, slipping it through his own. He guides her toward an elevator. "Because you have to put on an act now, the best act of your life. Sam won, and you're supposed to be madly in love with him. You need to be happy and poised and perfect… Katzula."

**Deceased Tributes**

**District 4** Male - Tex (_Sam_)

**District 7** Male - Atticus (_suicide_)

**District 12** Female - MaddiGrace (_injuries/Tex_)


	18. Chapter Sixteen

_Chapter Sixteen_

_' "I was only looking for a shortcut home,_

_But it's complicated, so complicated…" '_

Lifehouse – _It Is What It Is_.

I drift in and out of consciousness, flashes of faces and bright white assaulting me every time I manage to open my eyes. I close them and when I open them again, everything changes except for the white. Strange looking people hover around me. Strange sounds taint my hearing. My body hurts. When I'm finally able to drag myself from the warm embrace of oblivion, a pair of eyes I thought I would never see again stare worriedly down at me, slightly puffy from crying.

One eye is green… the other blue.

I sit up so fast the girl at my bedside jumps back, her head catching on the weird machine I'm hooked up to through a thin tube embedded in my arm. My head spins and my vision blurs as I throw out a hand, closing it around the metal bars of my bed, my other hand searching uselessly at my paper-covered waist for the blades that had been there at one point in time.

"Calm down!" The voice is soft but firm as a pair of hands force me down. The girl climbs over the rails of my bed and slips into the tiny space beside me, forcing me to lay back as she cushions her head on my chest, her hand over my heart. "It's okay, Sam. You're _safe_ now."

"You…"

She sits up and as my vision settles, I stare into her strange eyes as she places a hand against my mouth, shaking her head so furiously that her loose blonde hair flies in every direction. Several strands of the silky wave snap at my face, leaving behind a momentary sting. When she decides I'm not going to talk, she moves her hand away from my mouth and curls up against my side, her head lowering slowly onto my chest.

"I'm _okay_, Sam." She assures me. "MG… MG died."

I inhale shakily as my memories flood back. My wild response as I held Katzula in my arms, her strange eyes grey and her body and face made to look like my best-friend. I force myself to wrap my head around it, to disconnect MaddiGrace's image from the girl I held until she was gone. That wasn't MaddiGrace in the arena, standing right before my eyes the whole time. I had thought it was just a nameless girl, someone I'd never met… but it wasn't. It was…

Katzula…

My head hurts as I shift my arm around Katzula's – no, _MaddiGrace's_ – shoulders. The girl's hand fists in my paper gown, clutching at the space just over my heart. I feel her tears against my chest, warm and wet, seeping through the space her head occupies as she cries silently. Cries for the girl from the Capitol who died with the face of a girl from District 12. I want to cry, but the tears don't come. Instead I cling to the girl I've loved my entire life, wanting desperately to slip back into oblivion.

Back to a world where Katzula is Katzula and MaddiGrace isn't Katzula, back to a world where they can both be alive and healthy, happy. Somewhere where we are all friends and Tertia and Atticus, Alexei too, are alive and laughing. Somewhere far, far away…

But as the darkness steals me away, I'm not granted the sweet kiss of nothingness. No. My dreams are filled with death and violence, murder. I relive the games in a way I couldn't have lived through them, haunted by the two I killed and the ones I didn't…

…

I find out that I spent a week in and out of a medicine induced sleep. It gave me time to heal completely, until almost all traces of my time in the arena are wiped away and I'm left perfect and untouched.

Except for a scar under my right nipple and the burn-marks that run the length of my palms, so deep that even the Capitol's magical medicines and ointments couldn't wipe them away.

Katzula – it is important, I've been told time and time again by Caine, that I never even think of her as MaddiGrace again – visits me daily. She holds my hand and talks to me about nothing and everything, rattling off the story of _her life_, a life I know doesn't really belong to her but to the dead girl I couldn't save in the arena.

She tells me about a childhood that she can't possibly remember – although she speaks of it so fondly I can almost believe it was hers – and of birthday parties and friends, of gifts and presents she's received over her slender fifteen years of life. She tells me about her hopes and dreams, of her new career as a District 12 escort for future tributes… and of how much she wishes there would be no more Hunger Games.

When she isn't with me, Caine is. He tells me about the Capitol and the events that are occurring every day. Of the parties held in my honour, about my upcoming duties as a Victor. He tells me about letters he receives and responds to for me. Fan mail, he calls it. He tells me about everything and nothing. Things I don't care for, but listen to regardless.

I'm happier when I'm realised for the hospital, sent back to the training centre with my prep team, my stylist, and my perfect Katzula. It feels almost like home as I stand in the room I spent so much time in, moving from room to room, but more often than not I hide out on the rooftop. Sometimes Katzula sits with me, sometimes Caine. But most of the time, I'm alone, and I'm thankful for it.

They give me two days after my release from the hospital to catch my breath and settle into a routine. To get back to being normal, I think, but I no longer seem to know what normal is. The Capitol is growing desperate for my crowning and I'm just desperate for the whole thing to be behind me.

My dreams are more often than not filled with nightmares of the Games. Nightmares that haunt me when I'm awake and make my prep team wince every time they look at me because my eyes are so shadowed they'll just have to cake me in their makeup. I have to look good, after all. Unharmed, balanced and _normal_.

When the moment finally arrives, I dread it with every pore in my body as my prep team begins their work. The rips every hair from my body with cotton strips and some sticky substance, plucking the ones that they miss and wiping odd-smelling goo all over my face (leaving only my eyebrows untouched) to get rid of the hairs there. They dunk me in scented oils that soothe the burns and aches. The paint me like I'm a canvas, making me appear flawless. The style my hair and fuss over me like I'm a pretty doll they can't help but touch.

Katzula sneaks me bits of food and coffee whenever they disappear or stop work and I'm thankful, although not even slightly hungry or thirsty. When the prep team leave to get themselves ready, I'm not ashamed to admit that I'm glad they're gone.

Caine arrives next and helps me into a regal looking outfit of gold and white. I look like a God in my flowing costume. He fusses with my hair, messing it slightly. That tousled_, I-just-spent-an-hour-trying-to-look-like-I-just-got-out-of-bed_ look that he seems fond of. He helps me into gold sandals that strap up to my just below my knees, which are exposed because of the gold-trimmed white tunic-thing. I don't practically care, but I have to admit that I look good.

"You're stunning." Katzula tells me, her eyes sparkling. There's a smile on her lips that makes my stomach flicker slightly and I force a smile to my lips for her benefit. I still can't get used to her appearance, her face, and her eyes. "They'll love you."

"Here's to hoping." I grunt, letting the smile slip from my face as she wraps her arms around my neck, her fingers knotting themselves in my hair. She presses a kiss to my collarbone, inhaling my scent. "They should love me."

"Yes." She agrees, her breath warm against my neck. "They should. You're _perfect_."

"I'm a murderer." I reply coolly, stiffly.

She ignores me and rises onto the tips of her toes, using her hands to pull my head lower. Her lips crash over mine, the kiss hot and sweet and bitter and painful all at once. I find myself backing her up, until she slams rather roughly into a wall somewhere in the living room. One of my hands hit the wall beside her head, the other cups her cheek as her mouth opens, a gasp lost against my lips. My tongue slips between her opened lips and I deepen the kiss.

We're locked there for what seems like forever and no time at all. It's the longest moment and the shortest. I pull away from her hesitantly, pressing my forehead to hers and breathing in the calming scent of vanilla and watermelon that swirls around her like a halo. She holds me, breathing deeply, her lips slick and shiny, swollen.

"I'm sorry." I whisper to her.

"Why?" She frowns.

"For everything." I reply, my voice wavering slightly. "For not saving her, for not making it so that you could go home…"

"She did what she did to _save us_, Sam." She tells me, shoving me back roughly. I blink stupidly at her as I let her push me away. Her hands land on her hips and for a moment, I stare at dark curls and grey eyes instead of what is really in front of me. "If anything, you should be apologising for not making her death worth something."

She storms away from me, transforming into the odd coloured eyed girl she actually is. Blonde hair streaks by me and I turn, following her with my eyes as she disappears into her room, slamming the door behind her.

Caine clears his throat and I turn, fixing him in my gaze as he lounges by the elevator. I'm not sure how long he's been there, I'm not sure I even care, but the look on his face tells me he agrees with Katzula entirely.

"She's right." He says softly. "She died so that you didn't have to, so that MaddiGrace didn't have to…" He throws a cautious look around himself, around us, but there's no need. We're completely alone. There could be cameras, I suppose, but I doubt it. "I don't agree with what she did, but she saw something worthwhile in you… and you're letting her down."

"What do you want me to do?" I ask, glaring at him. "Fall in love with the Capitol and all of this… this _bullshit_?"

Caine laughs. "Of course not." He shakes his head slowly, his eyes never leaving mine. "But you could at least try to get back to the boy who she fell in love with, the boy who made her want to do something with her life, to change things. Right now, you might as well have died, because you're sure as hell _not living_."

I say nothing. _Because_ _there is nothing I can say_.

…

"Introducing our first ever Victor, Sam Holloway of District 12!"

The crowd roars as Artemis introduces me. I hesitate, forcing myself to smile, and throw myself through the curtains hiding me from view. I wave as I walk, catching sight of myself on the many screens littering the air above the stage, suspended by wires so thin that they actually look like they're hovering in mid-air.

I'm surprised by what I see. The boy on the screens is poised and perfect, smiling and waving and the image of confidence. He's handsome and happy, his eyes glittering and his smile just right. He looks confident, he reeks of self-esteem. He doesn't look broken or exhausted. He doesn't look like _me_.

I shake hands with Artemis and take my seat in the regal golden throne beside his chair, just waiting for him to start talking. He doesn't disappoint.

"So, Sam, how does it feel to be back in a bed and out of the arena?" He asks, leaning forward, his chin held in one hand.

I offer him a faint smile. "Honestly, I was happier to see a _shower_."

He laughs, looking surprised. "Why is that?"

"Honestly?" I question, my brow cocked. He nods and the crowd waits. "I was so _dirty_ – I didn't exactly _wash_ in that arena – that I felt like I was _crawling_ with _bugs_…" He laughs again and I smile. "Sure, the doctors and nurses cleaned me up in the hospital, but there's nothing like a steaming hot shower with soaps and scrubbing brushes. I was so red when I got out that I think Caine thought I'd turned into a lobster!"

The crowd roars with laughter, Artemis joining them. I meet Caine's eyes and he nods with approval, the smile on his lips playful. I pick out Katzula next, almost laughing as she hovers on the edge of her seat. Caine's hand is the only thing keeping her there I realise. I look back to Artemis, a smile still stuck to my lips.

"The Capitol is dying to know… are you and Katzula still in love?" Artemis questions next.

I find her eyes before the cameras spot her. She bites her lips and looks bashful, shying away from the spotlight. Caine chuckles beside her, draping an arm over her tiny shoulders in a fatherly gesture. I let myself relax, let myself appear all dreamy and lost to the romance of it all.

"Yes," I breathe, staring at Katzula. She stares back up at me; her cheeks flushed, but the smile on her lips is the only genuine thing about this entire event. The crowd _'oohs'_ dramatically, lost in our hopeless love story. "She was _all_ I could think about in the arena… I was so happy that the _first thing_ _I saw_ when I woke up was _her eyes_." I pause, turning to look at Artemis. "Have you seen how gorgeous they are, how unique? I could spend forever looking into them…"

"I haven't had the pleasure of an up-close viewing," Artemis admits. The cameras pan in on her eyes, making her cheeks flush even darker. Those odd-coloured orbs shine and glitter, sparkling under the attention. Artemis makes an appreciate noise. "How unusual, the colouring… are they _natural_?"

"Completely." I nod. "She was born with them."

"I can understand how easy it would be to get lost in them." He declares and the camera zooms back out, showing Katzula's entire face. She looks down, her cheeks so bright that Caine actually laughs. I smile fondly at them both before I give Artemis my undivided attention. "It was heartbreaking watching you call for her at the end… after…"

"I sort of lost my mind." I look down, going for ashamed. Artemis places a hand on my shoulder and I look up at him through my lashes. He gives me a gentle squeeze and I lift my head, shaking it slightly to clear a piece of hair from in front of my eyes. "I was… I was so upset, so broken after seeing everything I saw… after losing Tertia and Alexei… seeing Atticus… and then holding MaddiGrace – my best-friend, my little sister – in my arms… my mind tricked me into believing that it was…" I cut myself off, closing my eyes tightly and shaking my head. "I'm sorry, it's hard to… to talk about."

"I understand… we all do." Artemis smiles softly at me, clearly feeling sorry for me. "If you can, do you think you could… could tell us? What you thought you saw?"

"Kat…" I breathe after a long, extended pause. He frowns at me, not clicking on to the abbreviation. "Katzula… I thought I saw Kat in my arms. I keep seeing her eyes, her face instead of MG's." I blink several times, not even having to pretend that I'm on the verge of tears. Artemis reaches over again, touching my shoulder again. I offer him a shaky smile and exhale. "I would… I would really like to apologise to the Peacekeepers…" I feel my cheeks heat as I lie. "I didn't mean to be so disrespectful – I thank God every day that I didn't hurt any of them – I just kept seeing Kat in my arms and I thought…"

"It's alright, I'm sure they understand and hold no ill feelings toward you." Artemis smiles again and I nod my head. "Now, I've been hearing this little rumour floating around…"

"Oh?" I arch a brow, pleased to be moving on to something else.

"I heard that you've been granted permission for Katzula to travel to District 12 and stay with you for a while… a few weeks, apparently." Artemis raises both of his brows so high they almost disappear into the rainbow that is his hair. "Is this true?"

"Well," I chuckle. "We're waiting for it to be approved, but Kat has her fingers crossed… and her toes and everything else she can cross…" He laughs. "We're pretty certain she'll be allowed to stay with me for a bit. She's dying to meet my family and I want nothing more than to introduce her."

"Let's hope it is approved, then!" Artemis chirps and the crowd agrees. He turns toward a large screen that drops off to my left. It's blank, currently, but in a moment I know it will be filled with the best and worst moments of the Hunger Games… and most of those moments will include me. As Victor, it is in their twisted interest to see every possible moment of my time on the screen. Which means I have to… I swallow the lump and paste the plastic smile to my face. "Let's watch a recap of the Games before you're crowned our first ever Victor!"

I fight every instinct in my body to stay seated, staring at the screen. I don't fight the tears that start following from the moment the first of my friends – tiny little Alexei – is killed. I watch as Tertia is tortured and then as Atticus takes her life with a single deadly thrust of a knife through her chest, stopping her heart. I watch as he hangs himself. I watch as I kill Tex. I can't help but watch as I hold MaddiGrace as she slips away, screaming Katzula's name.

The screen goes blank and I sit numbly, staring at it as it rolls upwards and disappears. A box of tissues is placed in my hands and I dab at my cheeks and blow my nose, not having to bother to try and look embarrassed. The crowd stares at me, throwing out their sympathy with gentle calls and soft eyes. I don't want it. I bow my head and wipe the last of the tears from my face, knowing I've probably wiped off half of my makeup.

The president appears next, carrying a golden box. I rise and bow to him, moving quickly to shake his hand. His smile is pretentious as he holds me hand too long in his sweaty paw, his eyes fixed on my face for far too long. We both stand there, letting flashes blind us and cameras capture this moment. This is a historic moment, a time to be remembered forever.

I'm the first ever Victor in the first ever Hunger Games – it's one for the books!

He places the crown on my head and shakes my hand once more and finally, the entire event is over with. I wave and smile and bow to the crowd, I shake Artemis' hand and then, instead of disappearing backstage, I climb off the front and sweep Katzula into my arms. I'm in love, after all.

I crash my lips onto hers and the world seems to fade away. We're no longer in front of a thousand people, a thousand cameras. There's nothing and no one. It's just me and her. No one else exists, no one else can exist. I kiss her hard, desperately, and she kisses me back as if I hold the key to her survival. Like I'm her oxygen.

But it's the other way around, really.

She's my heaven.


	19. The Conclusion

_The Conclusion_

_' "On the first page of our story, the future seemed so bright…_

_Then this thing turned out so evil, I don't know why I'm still surprised…" '_

Rihanna feat. Eminem – _Love The Way You Lie (Part 2)_.

The ride back to District 12 is fuelled by a mixture of emotions and while part of me was desperate to return to the only home I've ever known, a part of me never wanted to have to look at the faces of those who I cared about. The ones who thought MaddiGrace had died in the horrific games and now believed I had fallen head over heels for the girl who had dragged us both to our death.

I was no longer sweet Sammy Holloway, the boy who had hope for a brighter tomorrow and a fresh and happy ending with his best-friend and the girl of his dreams. I was no longer innocent and pristine. I couldn't pretend that I hadn't changed, that I hadn't taken the lives of two children who just wanted to go home, to be loved and held by people who cared about them.

No longer could I expect to see love radiating from the eyes of the Moore family… I had failed them. Their daughter, or the girl they thought was their daughter, had been ripped from their lives by the vicious game the Capitol had decided to punish us all with.

I was now just Sam. Nothing more and certainly nothing less. I was just Sam, the Victor of the first Hunger Games. The sparkling gem of the Capitol, the boy who loved a girl from a world he didn't and shouldn't belong to. I couldn't explain to them, any of them, the messed up and muddled truth. I could never speak about what happened before the Games, of how two lives were saved instead of just one.

In their eyes, I was Sam Holloway the traitor.

The Games didn't end when I left the arena. I was bitterly surprised by this, more so than I should have been when I look back on it now. My romance with Katzula was splashed across every Capitol magazine, even circulated through the districts. I wasn't just a traitor in 12, but in every District that wasn't pampered by the Capitol (_which meant the only places that would be sort of okay with me were 1, 2 and 4_).

But all of this was insignificant in comparison to the bigger picture. The game I was going to have to keep playing. Katzula's acceptance letter arrived the morning I was set to return to 12 and she was a mixture of happy and sad. I, however, was torn. I was glad she was coming home with me, glad that I would be able to hold her and talk to her, because out of this entire mess that had become my life, she was the only thing that kept me sane. I was breathing because of her.

She was desperate to see her family – MaddiGrace's family – and to see mine. She wanted more than anything to tell them everything, but Caine forced her to see the logic behind how foolish that ways. They'd just put a body in the ground, buried the real Katzula under the belief that she was their daughter. They were grieving the loss of a child. It ate her up inside, but she had to admit that everyone was safer if they believed she was really the girl that they buried.

She was given permission to stay with me for a month. An entire month. I would get to watch her break and pick up the pieces time and time again for four weeks. I would watch her heart shatter and then I would have to watch as she taped the pieces back together, only to repeat the torturous process again and again.

I was certain it would kill her. Just like it would kill me to have to watch her dying in front of me. I was both glad and angry, disappointed that she'd been granted permission to spend a month in District 12. Selfishly, I wanted her to stay there with me, safe, forever. I needed her more than I needed to breathe. She kept the nightmares away, she kept me from falling back into the numb tomb I'd built myself before the Hunger Games ended and the new game began.

We would eventually get married. The president had told me so himself. Whether we fall out of love or not, our story was to be told for generations. It was supposed to show the Capitol and the districts that they were generous and loving, rewarding hard work and true love. I was a Victor and the Capitol citizens loved me and because they loved me, they loved Katzula… but mostly, they wanted my fairy-tale to be real.

Eventually, we would get married. Not in 12, like I wanted, but in the Capitol. Everything would be public and glamorous. We would be paraded around like trophies. And then, of course, we would have to produce children. Perfect little creatures who would become Capitol citizens from the moment of their birth. The only good thing about this was that it meant they were free of ever participating in the Hunger Games.

We would grow old together, watch our grandchildren grow up and have their own children… and then, we would die. But not before I got to be torn apart by the deaths of countless children from 12 as I tried to produce another Victor… another broken kid that would hold his or her head high and prance around like a puppet for the Capitol's entertainment.

But I would do it with a smile, with charm. I would force myself to participate in this new game because I had to, because it meant I could keep what I'd tried so desperately to protect. What my friend had died to protect…

At the end of the heart break, I got the girl…

And I would do it all over again if I had to.


	20. Disclaimers

**Disclaimers;**

_The Hunger Games_ and its world belongs to Suzanne Collines.

The original idea behind this story (_at least the part about District 12 tributes surviving the arena, being the winner[s] of the first ever Hunger Games is_…), and its characters, belongs to Hammsters.

**Hammsters' Main Characters**

**The Moore Family**

**The Holloway Family**

MaddiGrace (_16_)

Sam (_16_)

Rocky (_12_)

Max (_12_)

(_Unborn 1_)

Joseph (_9_)

(_Unborn 2_)

Carter (_7_)

(_Unborn 3_)

Julie (_1_)

Mother (_pregnant_)

Mother

Grandparents

Grandparents

Father (_deceased_)

**Hammsters' Other Characters**

Tex Houston

**My Characters**

**The Capitol Citizens**

**District Citizens**

Katzula

Mr Morton (_D12_)

Caine

Sam's father (_D12_)

Coralee

Artemis Glo

Yasmin (_D7_)

**Tributes**

**Females**

**Males**

Female Tribute (_D1_)

Nero (_D2_)

Tertia (_D2_)

Atticus (_D7_)

Alexei (_D4_)

**Chapter Details**

**The Prologue**

Pages: 2 - 3

Word Count: 1, 061

_' "What's gonna kill you is the second part…_

_And the third is when your world splits down the middle…" '_

The Script – _Six Degrees of Seperation_.

**Chapter One**

Pages: 4 - 12

Word Count: 4, 548

_' "There's so much sad gonna flood the ocean,_

_We're all in tears from a world that's broken…" '_

The Script – _We Cry_.

**Chapter Two**

Pages: 13 - 21

Word Count: 4, 375

_' "Say that it's gonna be alright,_

_That it's gonna be okay…" '_

Vanessa Hudgens – _Say Okay_.

**Chapter Three**

Pages: 22 - 28

Word Count: 3, 504

_' "If I'd only known it would break us,_

_I'd have done anything just to save us…" '_

The Veronicas – _All I Have_.

**Chapter Four**

Pages: 29 - 36

Word Count: 3, 834

_' "Nobody knows just how it feels today,_

_Nobody sees our hearts break…" '_

Powderfinger – _Nobody Sees_.

**Chapter Five; ****_Katzula_**

Pages: 37 - 44

Word Count: 3, 673

_' "I won't be told,_

_What's supposed to be right." '_

Kelly Clarkson – _Catch My Breath_.

**Chapter Six**

Pages: 45 - 52

Word Count: 3, 912

_' "Doesn't it feel,_

_Like our time is running out?" '_

Fall Out Boy – _The Phoenix_.

**Chapter Seven**

Pages: 53 - 60

Word Count: 3, 630

_' "It's just my humble opinion,_

_But it's one that I believe in…" '_

Paramore – _Break It Off_.

**Chapter Eight**

Pages: 61 - 71

Word Count: 5, 070

_' "Keep breathing 'cause I'm not leaving you anymore,_

_Believe it, hold on to me and never let me go." '_

Nickelback – _Far Away_.

**Chapter Nine**

Pages: 72 - 78

Word Count: 2, 736

_' "For once in my life, I'm scared to death,_

_I'm taking this chance letting you inside." '_

Lifehouse – _First Time_.

**Chapter Ten; ****_Katzula_**

Pages: 79 - 91

Word Count: 4, 927

_' "What you get is what you see,_

_It won't take much to get hooked on me." '_

Porcelain and the Tramps – _I'm Your Favourite Drug_.

**Chapter Eleven**

Pages: 92 - 101

Word Count: 4, 915

_' "So don't ask me where I'll go,_

_'Cause frankly, I don't know, and I don't give a shit." '_

Hayley Williams – _Teenagers_.

**Chapter Twelve**

Pages: 102 - 110

Word Count: 3, 629

_' "Forgot what it's like to just feel okay,_

_Praying for the day when there is no more rain…" '_

Alexx Calise – _Cry_.

**Chapter Thirteen**

Pages: 111 - 118

Word Count: 3, 332

_' "I needed somewhere to hang my head,_

_Without your noose…" '_

Foo Fighters – _Best of You_.

**Chapter Fourteen**

Pages: 119 - 123

Word Count: 2, 454

_' "I'm falling apart, I'm barely breathing,_

_With a broken heart that's still beating…" '_

Lifehouse – _Broken_.

**Chapter Fifteen; ****_Katzula_**

Pages: 124 - 130

Word Count: 3, 323

_' "The perfect words never crossed my mind 'cause there was nothing in there but you,_

_I felt every ounce of me screaming out, but the sound was trapped deep in me…" '_

Snow Patrol – _Signal Fire_.

**Chapter Sixteen**

Pages: 131 - 137

Word Count: 3, 412

_' "I was only looking for a shortcut home,_

_But it's complicated, so complicated…" '_

Lifehouse – _It Is What It Is_.

**The Conclusion**

Pages: 138 - …

Word Count: …

_' "On the first page of our story, the future seemed so bright…_

_Then this thing turned out so evil, I don't know why I'm still surprised…" '_

Rihanna feat. Eminem – _Love The Way You Lie (Part 2)_.


	21. A Thank You Note

**Just a Thank You Note From the Author**

Well… this has been an amazing adventure. I fell in love with Sam more than I thought I would and while I'm certain I didn't capture him as well as I could have or should have, I adore him. And Katzula (not MaddiGrace who becomes Katzula) soon become a character I really wanted him to fall for… however, it didn't work out that way.

I also loved Tertia and Atticus. I found it incredibly hard to kill Tertia, even more so than Katzula… but she had to die. How else could Sam win the Games and get the girl? Tex, while not mine, was another character I should probably have spent more time with… he was certainly interesting to write.

This story may have to be pulled down… I'm waiting to hear back from the author I adopted it from, as I abandoned my first attempt some time ago and let Hammsters down. I was hoping to hear from her before I posted this, but I haven't and so I've posted it, hoping she'll approve and will forgive me.

I want to thank anyone who reads and/or reviews this. I'm looking forward to any and all feedback. I probably sound pretentious, but I'm not trying to be. I'm trying to be hopeful. I'll admit, there are probably a thousand and one errors in here that I've missed and I apologise…

Well, thank you guys so much. I look forward to your opinions and just remember – I only own part of this. The rest is credited to Hammsters.

- The Ink Slinger. xox


	22. Review Responses

For some reason, I wasn't able to reply to one of my reviews, so I'm going to post what I would have sent here, in the hopes that the reviewer sees it. I would like to thank everyone (especially Hammsters) for their reviews and opinions, they were beyond sweet and flattering. I appreciate the time you took to read my story and then to write the lovely reviews you did... it makes my world.

I have them saved on my phone, every review, because I'm just bubbling with pride and excitement. They guys have officially made my day.

_HGfan_;

Thank you, I really appreciate it. I spent less time working on this than I thought I would, but the outcome has really surprised me. I was nervous when I posted it, but your review and the other reviews I have received have left me feeling rather silly for worrying. Haha, I'm flattered I've evoked an emotional response from you - I never expected that to happen.

If you have the time, perhaps you should take a look at Hammsters' piece? It's incomplete, but certainly worth the read. It's called _'I Can't Live Without You'_. I also believe it was her first fanfiction, although I'm not completely sure. Maybe you'll see some similarities, or why I was so inspired to actually finish this.

I loved Tertia, I couldn't help it. I always had a soft spot for Clove in The Hunger Games and she sort of inspired the character of Tertia, although I'm certain Tertia is a lot less evil that Clove was. I was trying to lace hints all through the story, I'm not too sure how well I did it, but I'm glad you suspected it. Tertia seemed to perfect character to drop most of the hints because she always seemed to know things everyone else didn't - Sam always figured she would be the one to realise MaddiGrace wasn't really MaddiGrace.

Katzula was a heart stealer. I loved her, but for the ending I wanted, I guess she had to be sacrificed. I actually didn't want to kill anyone... but you can't write a HG fanfic and save everyone. If it makes you feel any better, Kat is kind of the inspiration for another piece I'm plotting out in my head... I came up with the idea well before I rewrote this, but Kat sort of became the first stepping stone to what my plans are for the other fanfic I'm thinking of.

I actually worried over the ending, honestly. I didn't know if it was going to be too grim or too... wrong, I guess. But you make me feel like I made the right choice. Thank you.

I never actually thought about that when I wrote this... but yes, I suppose he'll have to be considering he is a victor and there were only four (I think...) ever victors from District 12...

Thank you again. I really appreciate your feedback.

- The Ink Slinger

_HGfan_;

Ahh. Maybe you should log into your account and finish some of them. Why kind of fanfics do you write? Or what's you're account name? I'd love to read some. You're welcome. I loved that you left me such a long review. Yes, the Hunger Games is clearly designed to break hearts. I guess it's a good thing we didn't get to know the other tributes in the first of the series, really. I was devastated enough when Clove died, she was my favourite despite the fact I barely knew anything about her. It didn't help that I loved the actress playing her... Yes, Tertia is that kind of character. I had to have at least one who was hard to trick.

I think that is partially because it is the first Hunger Games, but I also think its because Tertia knew she couldn't team up with her district partner - Nero - and there was no way she was joining up with any of the others. And Atticus just wanted to protect Alexei, considering Tex deserted her. So they all had their motives, I suppose, but I think it is because of it being the first Hunger Games.

If it makes you feel any better, I am considering writing a one-shot or two for Tertia, even Atticus, about their lives _before_ the Games.

Haha. I'm glad I left you a lasting impression.

- The Ink Slinger


End file.
